THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

William  P.  Wreden 


Peck's  Uncle  Ike 


AND  THE 


Red  Headed  Boy 


By  George  W.  Peck 

Author  of  "Peck's  Bad  Boy  and  His  Pa,"  "Peck's  Fun/ 
"Peck's  Sunshine.    Etc. 


Illustrated 


NEW  YORK 

HURST  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1899 

BY 
GEORGE  W.  PECK 

All  lights  reserved 


Illustrations 


FAGB 

GEO.  W.  PECK. Frontispiece 

"A  dog  biscuit  would  have  been  mince  pie  to  the  soldiers  in 

comparison." 13 

"  There  is  something  the  matter  with  this  'ere  terbacker."    .    .  19 

"  It  does  not  take  opera  music  to  get  people  to  heaven."     .    .  29 

"  Then  she  yelled  again  and  wanted  me  to  send  for  the  doctor."  37 

** I  grabbed  a  circus  man  by  the  arm." 49 

"  My  boy,  you  are  going  to  lose  your  Uncle  Ike." 59 

«  Which  is  Jeffries  ? "  asked  Uncle  Ike 65 

**  We  are  going  to  have  the  petition  signed  by  seven  million 

American  boys." 73 

"  Here  is  a  soft  bump  that  indicates  that  you  will  steal "  .  79 

"  She  is  a  nice  warm-looking  girl." 87 

"A  lot  of  us  boys  are  going  to  the  Klondike." 95 

44  Uncle  Ike,  I  heard  a  rumor  about  you  yesterday  that  tickled 

me  most  to  death." 103 

"  Here,  this  plaster  has  got  to  be  removed  before  the  fatal  day 

of  her  return." 113 

"  Presently  a  boy  came  down  the  street  from  toward  the  river 

with  nothing  on  but  a  flour  sack." 121 

"  Been  trying  to  smoke  the  old  man's  pipe,  eh  ?" 131 

"  Take  to  the  chaparral,  condemn  you,  or  I  will  drown  you  out 

like  a  gopher!" 139 

"  I  can't  decide  your  bet.  You  better  call  it  a  draw."  ....  149 
"  Uncle  Ike,  we  came  to  offer  you  the  position  of  Colonel  of 

our  regiment" 159 

"  Here  1  where  did  you  get  that  watch  ?"....'....  169 

"What  dum  foolishness  you  got  on  hand  now?" 179 

"  Squirming  like  a  lot  of  angle  worms  in  a  tomato  can."  .  ,  .  187 

"  Police  1" 197 

"  I  would  give  him  one  on  the  nose  with  my  left  hand."  .  .  205 

"  A  life  on  the  ocean  wave," 213 


634134 


To  the  Typical  American  Boy, 

The  boy  who  is  not  so  awfully  good,  along  at  first, 
but  just  good  enough ;  the  boy  who  does  not  cry 
when  he  gets  hurt,  and  goes  into  all  the  dangerous 
games  there  are  going,  and  goes  in  to  win ;  the  boy 
who  loves  his  girl  with  the  same  earnestness  that  he 
plays  football,  and  who  takes  the  hard  knocks  of  work 
and  play  until  he  becomes  hardened  to  anything  that 
may  come  to  him  in  after  life ;  the  boy  who  will  in 
vestigate  everything  in  the  way  of  machinery,  even  if 
he  gets  his  fingers  pinched,  and  learns  how  to  make 
the  machine  that  pinched  him ;  the  boy  who,  by  study, 
experience,  and  mixing  up  with  the  world,  knows  a 
little  about  everything  that  he  will  have  to  deal  with 
when  he  grows  up — the  all-around  boy,  that  makes 
the  all-around  man,  ready  for  anything,  from  praying 
for  his  country's  prosperity  to  fighting  for  its  honor ; 
the  boy  who  grows  up  qualified  to  lead  anything,  from 
the  german  at  a  dance  to  an  army  in  battle ;  the  boy 
who  can  take  up  a  collection  in  church,  or  take  up  an 
artery  on  a  man  injured  in  a  railroad  accident,  without 
losing  his  nerve ;  the  boy  who  can  ask  a  blessing  if 
called  upon  to  do  so,  or  ask  a  girl's  ugly  father  for 
the  hand  of  his  daughter  in  marriage,  without  choking 
up;  the  boy  who  grows  up  to  be  a  man  whom  all 
men  respect,  all  women  love,  and  whom  everybody 
wants  to  see  President  of  the  United  States,  this  book 
is  respectfully  dedicated  by 

THE  AUTHOR. 


PECK'S    UNCLE    IKE 


AND  THE 


RED-HEADED  BOY 


CHAPTER   I. 

"  Here,  Uncle  Ike,  let  me  give  you  a  nice  piece  ot 
paper,  twisted  up  beautifully,  to  light  your  pipe,"  said 
the  red-headed  boy,  as  Uncle  Ike,  with  his  long  clay 
pipe,  filled  with  ill-smelling  tobacco,  was  feeling  in  his 
vest  pocket  for  a  match.  "  I  should  think  nice  white 
paper  would  be  sweeter  to  light  a  pipe  with  than  a 
greasy  old  match  scratched  on  your  pants,"  and  the 
boy  lighted  a  taper  and  handed  it  to  the  old  man. 

"  No,  don't  try  any  new  tricks  on  me,"  said  Uncle 
Ike,  as  he  brought  out  a  match  from  his  vest  pocket, 
picked  off  the  shoddy  that  had  collected  on  it  in  the 
bottom  of  his  pocket,  and  hitched  his  leg  around  so 
he  could  scratch  it  on  his  trousers  leg.  "  I  have 
tried  lighting  my  pipe  with  paper,  and  the  odor  of  the 
paper  kills  the  flavor  of  this  lo-cent  tobacco.  Now, 
the  brimstone  on  a  match,  added  to  the  friction  of 
the  trousers  leg,  helps  the  flavor  of  the  tobacco,"  and 
he  drew  the  match  across  his  trousers,  and  lighted 


10  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

his  pipe,  and  as  the  smoke  began  to  fill  the  room  his 
good  old  face  lighted  up  as  though  he  had  partaken 
of  a  rich  wine.  "  I  like  to  get  a  little  accustomed  to 
brimstone  here  on  this  earth,  so,  if  I  get  on  the 
wrong  road  when  I  die,  and  go  where  brimstone  is 
the  only  fuel,  I  won't  appear  to  the  neighbors  down 
there  as  though  I  was  a  tenderfoot.  Wherever  I  go, 
I  always  want  to  appear  as  though  it  wasn't  my  first 
trip  away  from  home.  Ah,  children,"  said  the  old 
man,  as  he  blew  smoke  enough  out  of  his  mouth  to 
call  out  a  fire  department,  and  laughed  till  the  win 
dows  rattled,  "  there  is  lots  of  fun  in  this  old  world, 
if  your  pipe  don't  go  out.  Don't  miss  any  fun,  be 
cause  when  you  die  you  don't  know  whether  there  is 
any  fun  going  on  or  not." 

"  I  believe,  Uncle  Ike,  that  you  would  have  fun 
anywhere,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  thought  of  the  funny 
stories  the  old  man  had  told  him  for  many  years,  and 
listened  to  the  laugh  that  acted  as  punctuation  marks 
to  all  of  Uncle  Ike's  remarks.  "  I  would  hate  to 
trust  you  at  a  funeral.  Did  you  ever  laugh  at  a 
funeral,  Uncle  ? " 

"  I  came  mighty  near  it  once,"  said  the  old  man, 
as  he  put  his  little  finger  in  the  pipe  and  pressed 
down  the  ashes,  and  let  the  smoke  out  again  like  the 
chimney  of  a  factory. 

"  O,  my !  why  don't  they  make  you  use  a  smoke 
consumer  on  that  pipe,  or  cause  you  to  use  smokeless 
tobacco  ? "  said  the  boy,  as  he  coughed  till  the  tears 
came  to  his  eyes.  "  It  looks  in  this  room  like  burn- 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  1 1 

ing  a  tar  barrel  when  Dewey  sunk  the  Spanish  fleet. 
But  tell  us  about  your  funny  funeral." 

"  O,  it  wasn't  so  funny,"  said  the  old  man,  as  he 
stroked  the  stubble  on  his  chin,  and  a  twinkle  came 
all  around  his  eyes.  "  It  was  only  my  thoughts  that 
come  near  breaking  up  the  funeral.  There  was  an 
old  friend  of  mine  years  ago,  a  newspaper  man,  who 
was  the  most  genial  and  loving  soul  I  ever  knew,  but 
he  stuttered  so  you  couldn't  help  laughing  to  hear 
him.  He  could  write  the  most  beautiful  things  with 
out  stuttering,  but  when  he  began  to  talk,  and  the 
talk  would  not  come,  and  he  stammered,  and  puck 
ered  up  his  dear  face,  and  finally  got  the  words  out, 
chewed  up  into  little  pieces,  with  hyphens  between 
the  syllables,  you  had  to  laugh  or  die.  We  were 
great  friends,  and  used  to  smoke  and  tell  stories  to 
gether,  and  pass  evenings  that  I  can  now  recall  as 
the  sweetest  of  my  life.  There  were  many  things  in 
which  we  were  alike.  We  smoked  the  same  kind  of 
tobacco,  in  clay  pipes,  and  lived  on  the  same  street, 
and,  after  an  evening  of  pleasure,  whichever  of  us 
was  the  least  wearied  with  the  day's  work  and  night 
of  enjoyment  walked  home  with  the  other.  We  used 
to  talk  about  the  hereafter,  and  promised  each  other 
to  see  that  the  one  that  died  first  should  not  have  a 
funeral  sermon  that  would  give  us  taffy.  It  was  my 
friend's  idea  that,  if  the  minister  spread  it  on  too 
thick,  he  would  raise  up  in  the  coffin  and  protest. 
He  was  not  what  you  would  call  a  good  Christian,  as 
the  world  goes,  but  I  would  trust  him  to  argue  with 


11  Peck's  Uncie  Ike 

St.  Peter  about  getting  inside  the  gate,  because,  if 
his  stutter  ever  got  St.  Peter  to  laughing,  my  friend 
would  surely  get  in.  Well,  he  died,  and  I  was  one  of 
the  bearers  at  the  funeral,  with  seven  others  of  his 
old  friends  ;  and  when  the  minister  was  picturing  the 
virtues  of  the  deceased  which  he  never  possessed, 
one  of  the  bouquets  on  the  coffin  rolled  off  on  the 
floor,  and  I  thought  of  what  my  friend  had  said  about 
calling  the  minister  down,  and  in  my  imagination  I 
could  see  the  old  fellow  raising  up  in  the  coffin  and 
stuttering,  and  puckering  up  his  face  there  on  that 
solemn  occasion,  and  for  about  ten  seconds  it  seemed 
as  though  I  would  split  with  laughter ;  but  I  held  it 
in,  and  we  got  the  good  old  genius  buried  all  right, 
but  it  was  a  terrible  strain  on  my  vest  buttons,"  and 
the  old  smoker  lighted  another  match  on  his  trousers 
and  started  the  pipe,  which  had  grown  cold  as  he 
talked  of  the  stuttering  remains. 

"  O,  say,  Uncle  Ike,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  shuddered 
a  little  at  the  idea  of  a  stuttering  corpse  talking  back 
at  a  minister,  "  speaking  of  heaven,  do  you  think  the 
men  that  furnished  embalmed  beef  to  the  soldiers 
and  made  them  sick  in  Cuba  will  get  to  heaven  when 
they  die  ? " 

"  That  depends  a  good  deal  on  whether  a  political 
pull  is  any  good  over  there,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he 
reached  for  the  yellow  paper  of  tobacco  and  filled  up 
the  clay  pipe  again.  "  /  think  a  soldier  is  the  noblest 
work  of  God.  A  young  man  who  has  got  everything 
just  as  he  wants  it  at  home,  parents  who  love  him, 


O'  X'  ;^V 


11  Why,  a  dog  biscuit  would  hav  been  mioco  jpie  tg  the  soldiers  in 


comparison/ 


14  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

and  perhaps  a  girl  who  believes  he  is  the  dearest  man 
that  ever  wore  a  choker  collar ;  who  hears  that  his 
country  needs  help,  and  gives  up  his  spring  mattress, 
his  happy  home,  his  evenings  with  the  dearest  girl  in 
the  world,  gives  up  baking  powder  biscuits  and  straw 
berry  shortcake,  and  enlists  to  go  to  Cuba,  and  sleeps 
on  the  ground  in  the  mud,  gets  malaria,  and  fights 
on  his  knees  when  he  is  too  weak  to  stand  up,  de 
serves  something  better  than  decayed  meat,  and  I 
believe  the  people  who  furnished  that  stuff  for  the 
boys  are  going  right  straight  to  hell  when  they  die," 
and  a  look  of  revenge  and  horror  and  indignation 
came  over  the  old  man's  face  that  the  boy  had  not 
seen  before  in  all  the  years  he  had  known  his  uncle. 
"  No,  sir,"  said  he ;  "  the  smell  of  that  canned  beef 
will  stick  to  the  garments  of  those  who  prepared  it 
and  those  who  furnished  it  to  those  boys ;  and  if  one 
of  them  got  into  heaven  by  crawling  under  the  can 
vas,  every  angel  there  would  hold  her  nose  and  make 
up  a  face,  and  they  would  send  for  the  devil  with  his 
pitchfork  to  throw  him  out.  The  verdict  of  no 
board  of  investigation  is  going  to  be  received  as  a 
passport  to  heaven.  Why,  a  dog  biscuit  would  have 
been  mince  pie  to  the  soldiers  in  comparison  to  the 
stuff  the  rich  beef  packers  furnished  to  those  young 
noblemen  with  the  kyack  uniforms  on.  To  make  a 
little  more  money,  men  who  have  millions  of  dollars 
to  burn,  bilked  a  weak  and  overworked  set  of  officials 
with  incipient  paresis  and  locomotor  ataxia  in  their 
walk  and  conversation,  and  sawed  on  to  them  stuff 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  15 

that  self-respecting  pigs  could  not  have  digested  with 
out  taking  pepsin  tablets;  and  with  that  embalmed 
and  canned  outrage  on  humanity  in  their  stomachs 
those  brave  men  charged  in  the  face  of  an  enemy, 
and  were  hungry  heroes,  loaded  with  decayed  beef 
from  a  country  that  produces  the  finest  food  in  the 
world.  Tramps,  begging  at  the  back  gates  of  Ameri 
can  homes,  were  living  on  the  fat  of  the  land ;  dogs 
could  gnaw  fresh  and  sweet  meat  off  of  bones  thrown 
away,  and  laugh  at  our  soldiers  carrying  Old  Glory  to 
victory  up  hills  shelled  and  bulleted  and  barbed-wire 
fenced.  A  bullet  from  a  Spanish  gun,  entering  the 
stomach  of  an  American  soldier,  turned  black  when 
it  came  in  contact  with  the  embalmed  beef  there,  and 
poisoned  the  brave  soldier,  and  made  him  die,  with 
thoughts  of  home,  and  mother,  and  sweetheart,  and 
his  lips  closed  for  the  last  time,  silent  as  to  his 
wrongs,  uncomplaining  as  to  the  murder  committed 
by  the  millionaires  at  home.  The  business  of  pack 
ing  meat  ought  to  be  combined  with  the  undertaking 
business,  so  you  could  order  your  meat  and  your 
coffin  from  the  same  man.  By  cracky !  Boy,  I  am  so 
mad  when  I  think  of  it,  that  I  don't  want  to  go  to 
heaven  if  those  people  go  there.  Go  out,  dears,  for 
a  minute,  for  I  want  to  use  language  that  you  can't 
find  in  the  school  books ! "  and  Uncle  Ike  got  up  out 
of  his  chair,  pale  with  anger,  and  smashed  his  pipe  on 
the  stone  hearth,  and  a  tear  rolled  down  his  cheek. 
"  Why,  Uncle  Ike,  I  didn't  mean  to  make  you  cry," 


1 6  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

said  the  red-headed  boy,  as  he  backed  out  of  the 
room,  frightened  at  the  old  man. 

"  Well,  never  mind,  boy ;  don't  worry  about  your 
Uncle  Ike,  because  at  my  age,  when  a  man  gets  mad 
clear  through,  he  has  to  have  vent,  or  bust,"  and  the 
old  fellow  laughed  as  hearty  as  though  he  had  never 
been  mad  in  his  life.  "  But  I  have  a  tender  spot  for 
soldiers  who  go  to  fight  for  their  country,  and  when 
they  are  abused  I  feel  that  somebody  is  guilty  of 
treason.  I  was  a  soldier  in  the  war  between  the 
North  and  South,  and  have  seen  soldiers  hungry,  so 
hungry  that  they  would  taTce  raw  corn  out  of  the 
nosebags  of  mules  that  were  eating  it,  until  a  mule 
would  begin  to  kick  seven  ways  for  Sunday  when  he 
saw  a  soldier  coming ;  but  it  couldn't  be  helped,  be 
cause  the  government  couldn't  keep  up  with  the  sol 
diers  with  rations,  when  they  were  on  the  jump  night 
and  day.  But,  do  you  know  we  had  fun  all  the  time 
we  were  hungry  ?  There  were  Irish  soldiers  in  my 
regiment  who  would  keep  you  good  natured  when 
you  were  ready  to  die.  The  Irish  soldier  is  so  funny 
and  so  cheerful  that  he  should  have  good  pay.  If  I 
was  going  to  raise  a  regiment,  I  would  have  one  Irish 
soldier,  at  least,  to  every  seven  other  soldiers,  and  my 
Irish  boy  would  keep  them  all  laughing  by  his  wit,  so 
they  would  stand  any  hardship.  I  have  seen  an  Irish 
boy  parch  his  corn  that  he  had  stolen  from  a  mule, 
spread  it  out  on  a  saddle  blanket  in  four  piles,  go  and 
ask  three  officers  to  dine  with  him,  and,  when  they 
sat  down  on  the  ground  to  eat  the  parched  corn,  he 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  !7 

wouldn't  let  them  begin  the  meal  until  he  made  a 
welcoming  speech,  and  had  the  chaplain  ask  a  bless 
ing  over  the  corn  ;  and  then  he  would  go  without  his 
share,  and  tell  funny  stories  until  the  guests  would 
laugh  until  they  almost  choked.  The  Irish  soldier  is 
worth  his  weight  in  gold  in  any  army,  boy,  and  he  is 
in  all  armies,  on  one  side  or  the  other,  and  generally 
on  both  sides.  The  only  objection  I  have  to  an  Irish 
man  is  that  he  smokes  one  of  these  short  pipes,"  and 
the  old  man  lit  up  his  long  clay  pipe,  and  let  the  boy 
go  out  to  think  over  the  lesson  of  the  morning. 


18  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 


CHAPTER  II. 

Uncle  Ike  sat  and  smoked  his  pipe  in  silence  for  a 
few  minutes,  blew  the  smoke  out  in  clouds,  and 
looked  at  it  as  though  searching  for  something,  and 
there  was  a  serious  look  on  his  face,  as  though  he 
was  trying  to  fathom  some  mystery,  while  the  red 
headed  boy  was  looking  at  himself  in  a  hand  mirror 
to  see  if  the  freckles  on  his  nose  were  any  smaller 
since  he  had  been  using  some  of  his  mother's  toilet 
powder  to  remove  them.  Finally  Uncle  Ike  put  the 
bowl  of  the  pipe  to  his  nose  and  smelled  of  the  burn 
ing  tobacco,  turned  up  his  nose  and  snuffed,  and  said : 

"There  is  something  the  matter  with  this  'ere  ter- 
backer.  I  suppose  the  terbacker  makers  have  got 
into  a  trust,  and  they  don't  care  how  the  stuff  smells. 
Condemned  if  I  ain't  half  a  mind  to  quit  smoking 
and  break  up  the  trust." 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you,"  said  the  red-headed  boy, 
"  that  I  fixed  your  tobacco  for  you  so  it  would  not 
smell  so  bad.  I  put  some  cinnamon  bark  and  wiener 
skins  in  it." 

"  Well,  of  all  things ! "  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  emp 
tied  the  tobacco  out  of  the  pipe  by  rapping  it  on  the 
heel  of  his  boot,  and  looked  sick.  "What  in  the 
name  of  heaven  is  wiener  skins  ? " 

"Why,  it  is  the  envelope  that  goes  around  a 
wiener  sausage.  Us  boys  were  smoking  cigarettes 


«« There  is  something  the  m  alter  with  this  'ere  terbacker. 


2O  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

one  day  made  of  paper  and  dried  dandelion  leaves, 
and  the  boy  at  the  butcher  shop  said  if  we  would  dry 
some  wiener  skin  and  cut  it  up  and  put  it  in  the  cig 
arette  and  smoke  it,  it  would  make  the  finest  flavor, 
and  make  us  strong.  I  tried  it,  and  the  cigarette 
smelled  just  like  camping  out  and  cooking  over  a 
camp-fire,  and  the  next  day  I  was  so  strong  ma  no 
ticed  it.  I  thought  you  were  getting  old,  and  I  would 
make  you  strong  and  young  again.  Don't  you  notice 
how  different  the  smoke  smells  since  I  fixed  the  to 
bacco  ?  I  was  going  to  put  in  some  red  pepper  pods, 

but " 

"  Here,  hold  on  !  "  said  Uncle  Ike.  "  The  butcher 
has  got  you  mixed  up.  He  was  giving  you  a  recipe 
for  a  Mexican  pudding.  But  don't  you  ever  try  any 
experiments  on  your  Uncle  Ike  any  more.  I  don't 
want  to  be  made  strong  any  more  on  sausage  skins. 
A  gymnasium  is  good  enough  for  me,  and  it  don't 
smell  like  burning  a  negro  at  the  stake.  I  know 
anything  would  help  the  flavor  of  this  terbacker,  but 
I  have  got  used  to  it,  after  about  sixty  years  burning 
it  under  my  nose,  and,  if  the  trust  will  not  water  the 
stock  with  baled  hay  or  cut  cabbage,  I  will  try  and 
pull  through  as  it  is.  So  you  experiment  on  yourself, 
condemn  you !  I  knew  it  was  you  that  had  disturbed 
my  terbacker.  I  can  tell  by  the  freckles  on  your  face 
when  you  have  done  anything  wrong.  A  boy  that  is 
freckled  has  got  to  be  square,  or  I  am  right  on  to 
him.  When  you  are  guilty,  the  freckles  on  your  nose 
are  changeable ;  one  will  be  yellow,  like  saffron,  and 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  li 

another  freckle  seems  pale,  and  little  drops  of  per 
spiration  appear  between  the  freckles  ;  and  then  sev 
eral  small  freckles  will  combine  into  one,  like  a  trust, 
and  you  are  given  completely  away.  So  remember, 
as  long  as  you  wear  freckles,  if  you  do  anything 
crooked,  there  is  a  sign  right  on  your  face  that  tells 
the  tale." 

"  Say,  Uncle  Ike,  what  is  a  trust  ? "  asked  the  red 
headed  boy,  anxious  to  turn  the  subject  away  from 
wiener  skins  and  freckles.  "  What  good  does  a  trust 
do?" 

"Well,  a  trust  is  one  of  these  things,"  said  Uncle 
Ike,  as  he  opened  a  new  paper  of  tobacco,  and  threw 
the  old  paper,  that  had  been  treated  with  foreign  sub 
stances,  into  -the  fire,  "  one  of  these  things  that  are 
for  the  benefit  of  the  dear  people.  You  have  heard 
of  selling  a  gold  brick,  haven't  you  ?  The  man  who 
sells  a  gold  brick  has  a  brass  brick  made  with  a  hole 
in  it,  in  which  he  puts  some  gold,  and  he  lets  the  jay 
who  wants  to  invest  in  raw  gold  test  it  by  putting 
acid  on  the  place  where  the  gold  is  filled  in,  and  the 
jay  finds  that  the  brick  is  solid  gold,  and  he  buys  it, 
after  mortgaging  his  farm  to  raise  the  money.  The 
man  sells  the  gold  brick  cheap,  because  the  jay  is  his 
friend,  and  when  he  has  got  out  of  the  country  the 
jay  tries  to  sell  his  gold  brick  for  eight  hundred  dol 
lars,  and  he  gets  two  dollars  and  eighty  cents  for  it. 
That  is  one  kind  of  a  trust.  The  trust  you  mean  is  a 
combination  of  several  factories,  for  instance.  The 
promoter  gets  all  the  factories  in  one  line  of  business 


22  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

to  combine.  They  pay  each  factory  proprietor  more 
than  his  business  is  worth,  and  he  is  tickled,  but  they 
only  pay  him  part  money,  and  give  him  stock  in  the 
combine  for  the  balance,  and  let  him  run  his  old  busi 
ness,  now  owned  by  others,  at  a  good  salary,  and  he 
gets  the  big  head  and  buys  a  rubber-tired  carriage, 
and  sends  his  family  to  Europe.  Then  the  trust 
closes  down  his  factory  and  throws  his  men  out  of 
employment,  lowers  the  price  of  goods  to  run  out  oth 
ers  who  have  not  entered  the  trust,  and  the  people 
who  get  goods  cheap  say  a  trust  is  the  noblest  work 
of  God.  After  the  outsiders  have  been  ruined,  and 
the  man  who  entered  the  trust  in  good  faith  has  spent 
the  money  they  gave  him,  and  tries  to  sell  the  stock 
he  received,  it  has  gone  down  to  seven  cents  on  a  dol 
lar,  and  the  trust  buys  it  in,  and  he  cables  his  family 
to  come  home  in  the  steerage  of  a  cattle  ship.  His 
old  employees  have  gone  to  the  poorhouse  or  to  sell 
ing  bananas  with  a  cart,  and  the  former  manufacturer 
who  was  happy  and  prosperous  has  become  poor  and 
shabby,  and  he  looks  at  his  closed  factory,  with  its 
broken  windows,  and  he  tries  to  get  a  position  push 
ing  a  scraper  on  the  asphalt  pavement,  and  if  he  fails 
he  either  jumps  off  the  pier  into  the  lake,  or  takes  a 
gun  and  goes  gunning  for  the  trust  promoter  who 
ruined  him.  And  after  the  factory  man  is  drowned, 
or  sent  to  the  penitentiary  for  murder,  the  stock  in 
the  trust  takes  a  bound  and  is  away  above  par,  and 
he  hasn't  got  any  of  it,  and  the  poor  competitors  of 
the  trust  having  been  ruined  and  closed  up,  prices  of 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  23 

the  goods  go  up  kiting,  and  the  dear  people  who  said 
a  trust  was  the  noblest  work  of  God  say  it  is  the 
dumbdest  work  of  man,  and  they  pass  resolutions  to 
down  the  trust,  while  the  owners  of  the  good  stock  in 
the  trust  stick  out  their  fat  stomachs,  full  of  cham 
pagne  and  canvasback  and  terrapin,  and  laugh  at  the 
people  till  they  nearly  die  of  apoplexy,  and  drive  bob- 
tailed  horses  that  live  better  than  the  people,  and  car 
ry  blanketed  dogs  on  velvet-cushioned  carriages,  that 
would  turn  up  their  noses  at  good  wiener  skins  worse 
than  I  did  when  you  loaded  my  tobacco,  you  little 
red-headed  rascal,"  and  Uncle  Ike  drew  a  long  breath, 
and  brought  his  fist  down  on  the  table  in  anger,  as  he 
got  worked  up  over  the  wrongs  of  the  people  at  the 
hands  of  the  gold  brick  trusts. 

"Gosh,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  as  his  eyes  kept 
opening  wider  and  wider  when  he  took  in  all  Uncle 
Ike  had  said,  "  I  should  think  the  people  would  have 
the  trusts  arrested  for  breach  of  promise." 

"What  do  you  know  about  breach  of  piomise?" 
said  Uncle  Ike,  coloring  up  and  looking  foolish. 
"  Who  has  been  telling  you  about  my  being  arrested 
once  for  breach  of  promise  ?  If  your  mother  has  told 
you  about  that  old  trouble  I  had,  I'll  leave  this  house 
and  go  board  at  a  tavern." 

"I  never  heard  anything  about  it,  Uncle  Ike,  so 
help  me.  I  never  heard  that  you  was  ever  in  love." 

"I  never  was  in  love,"  said  the  old  man,  as  he 
loaded  up  the  pipe  again,  "  except  with  my  pipe.  That 
affair  was  a  clear  case  of  a  dog  getting  stuck  on  a 


04  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

man,  and  the  owner  of  the  dog  thinking  she  was  be- 
ing  loved.  You  see  I  went  to  a  summer  resort  years 
ago,  and  got  acquainted  with  a  widow.  She  was  a 
sweet  creature,  but  I  never  said  a  word  to  her  about 
marriage.  She  had  a  pug  dog,  and  I  petted  the  dog, 
and  called  it  to  me,  and,  do  you  know,  that  dog  got 
so  he  would  follow  me,  and  set  on  my  lap,  and  come 
to  my  room,  and  whine,  until  I  got  scared.  I  talked 
with  the  widow  some,  and  once  I  took  her  and  the 
dog  out  boat  riding,  but  I  never  gave  her  any  cause  to 
think  that  I  was  in  love  with  her.  But  you  ought  to 
have  seen  that  dog.  He  just  doted  on  me.  I  en- 
icouraged  it  till  all  the  guests  at  the  hotel  began  to 
notice  that  I  was  very  dear  to  the  dog,  and  the  widow 
looked  on  smilingly  and  encouraged  the  intimacy. 
Then  I  tried  to  drive  the  dog  away  from  me,  but  he 
would  curl  up  at  my  feet  and  look  up  at  me  in  such  a 
loving  manner  that  I  weakened.  Then  the  widow 
began  to  hint  at  her  desire  to  have  someone  that  the 
dog  could  look  up  to  and  love,  and  it  was  getting  too 
warm,  and  I  left  the  summer  resort,  and  was  sued  for 
breach  of  promise.  Of  course  I  didn't  know  what  the 
woman  or  the  dog  would  swear  to,  so  I  settled  for  a 
thousand  dollars.  The  next  year  I  called  at  the  sum 
mer  resort,  and  found  the  dog  stuck  on  another  man, 
and  I  know  just  as  well  as  can  be  that  the  widow  paid 
her  expenses  each  summer  by  that  dog  getting  in  love 
with  men,  and  I  have  never  looked  at  a  woman  twice 
since." 

"Served  them  right,"  said  the  boy,  who  had  an 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  a$ 

idea  that  Uncle  Ike  was  right  about  everything.  "I 
don't  take  much  stock  in  girls  myself.  I  am  mighty 
glad  I  haven't  got  any  sister.  The  boys  that  have 
got  sisters  are  in  hot  water  all  the  time,  and  have  to 
go  home  with  them  from  parties,  and  carry  their  rub 
bers  to  school  when  it  rains,  and  fight  for  them  if  the 
other  boys  call  them  tomboys.  Sisters  are  no  good," 
and  the  red-headed  boy  looked  5mart,  as  though  he 
had  said  something  Uncle  Ike  would  applaud. 

"There,  that  will  do,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  put 
his  hand  in  the  boy's  hair  to  warm  it.  "  Don't  let  me 
ever  hear  you  say  a  word  against  sisters  again.  You 
don't  know  anything  about  sisters.  They  are  great. 
Let  me  tell  you  a  story.  I  know  a  man  who  is  away 
up  in  public  affairs,  at  the  head  of  his  profession  in 
his  county,  and  one  the  world  will  hear  more  about 
some  of  these  days.  He  was  just  such  a  little  shrimp 
as  you  are,  when  he  was  a  boy.  He  got  out  of  the  high 
school,  and  was  going  to  clerk  in  a  feed  store,  when  his 
sister  took  him  one  side,  one  Sunday,  and  told  him  she 
wanted  him  to  go  to  college.  He  almost  fainted 
away  at  the  idea.  There  wasn't  much  money  in  the 
family  to  burn  on  a  boy's  education,  and  he  knew  it, 
and  he  asked  where  the  money  was  to  come  from. 
This  little  sister  of  the  poor  boy  said  she  would  fur 
nish  the  money.  She  knew  that  he  would  be  one 
of  the  great  men  of  the  country,  if  he  had  a  college 
education,  and  it  was  arranged  for  him  to  go  to  col 
lege,  this  little  sister  being  his  backer  financially.  She 
had  a  musical  education,  and  began  to  look  for 


16  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

chances  to  make  money.  She  took  scholars  in  music, 
and  was  so  anxious  to  make  money  for  this  brother  to 
blow  in  on  an  education  that  she  fairly  forced  music 
into  all  her  pupils,  working  night  and  day,  often  with 
her  head  ready  to  split  open  with  pain,  but  every 
week  she  rounded  up  money  enough  to  send  to  that 
brother  at  college,  and  for  four  years-  there  never  was 
a  Monday  morning  that  he  did  not  get  a  postoffice 
order  from  that  sweet  girl,  and  every  day  a  letter  of 
encouragement,  and  advice,  and  when  he  graduated  a 
pale  girl  stood  below  the  platform  with  bright  eyes 
and  a  feverish  cheek,  and  when  he  came  down  off  the 
platform  with  his  diploma  he  grasped  her  in  his  arms 
and  said,  '  Sister,  darling,'  and  kissed  her  in  the  pres 
ence  of  five  thousand  people,  and  she  fainted.  She 
had  worked  as  no  man  works,  for  four  years,  and  the 
result  was  a  brother,  a  lawyer,  a  grand  man,  who 
loves  that  sister  as  though  she  was  an  angel  from 
heaven.  So,  confound  you,  if  I  ever  hear  you  say  a 
word  against  sisters  again,  I  will  take  you  across  my 
knee  and  you  will  think  the  millennium  has  come  and 
struck  you  right  on  the  pants,"  and  Uncle  Ike  patted 
the  boy  on  the  cheek,  and  said  they  had  better  go 
out  and  catch  a  mess  of  fish. 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  27 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  Uncle  Ike,  did  you  ever  take  many  degrees  in 
secret  societies  ? "  asked  the  red-headed  boy,  as  he  saw 
the  old  gentleman  reading  an  account  of  a  man  who 
was  killed  during  initiation  into  a  lodge,  by  being 
spanked  with  a  clapboard  on  which  cartridges  had 
been  placed. 

"About  a  hundred  degrees,  I  should  think,  with 
out  counting  up,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  thought  over 
the  different  lodges  he  had  belonged  to  in  the  past 
fifty  years.  "  What  set  you  to  thinking  about  secret 
societies  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  thought  I  would  join  a  few,  and  have  some 
fun.  I  read  every  little  while  about  some  one  being 
killed  while  being  initiated,  and  it  seems  to  me  the 
death  rate  is  about  as  great  as  it  is  in  Cuba  or  the 
Philippines.  Is  there  much  fun  in  killing  a  man, 
Uncle  Ike  ? " 

"  Well,  not  much  for  the  man  who  is  killed,"  said 
the  old  man,  as  he  gave  the  grand  hailing  sign  of  dis 
tress  for  the  boy  to  bring  him  his  pipe  and  tobacco. 
"  Accidents  will  happen,  you  know.  It  isn't  one  man 
in  ten  thousand  that  gets  killed  being  initiated." 

"What  do  people  join  lodges  for,  anyway,  when 
they  are  liable  to  croak  ?"  said  the  boy,  as  he  passed 
the  ingredients  for  a  fumigation  to  the  uncle.  "  Don't 
you  think  there  ought  to  be  laws  against  initiating,  the 


28  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

same  as  clipping  horses  and  cutting  their  tails  off,  or 
cutting  off  dogs'  tails  and  ears  ?  What  do  the  lodges 
have  those  funny  ceremonies  for  ? " 

"  Well,  a  fool  boy  can  ask  more  questions  than  the 
oldest  man  can  answer,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  hitched 
around  in  his  chair,  and  looked  mysterious,  as  he 
thought  of  the  grips  and  passwords  he  once  knew. 
"  No,  there  is  no  occasion  for  laws  against  men  going 
up  against  any  game.  Most  men  join  lodges  because 
they  think  it  is  a  good  thing,  and  after  they  have 
taken  a  few  degrees  they  want  all  there  are,  and  after 
awhile  the  degrees  keep  getting  harder,  and  they 
think  of  more  to  come,  and  by  and  by  they  get 
enough.  In  most  lodges  all  men  are  on  an  equal  foot 
ing,  the  prince  and  the  pauper  are  all  alike.  Occas 
ionally  there  is  a  man  who  thinks  because  he  is  rich 
or  prominent  in  some  way,  that  he  is  smarter  than 
the  ordinary  man  in  a  lodge.  Then  is  the  time  that  the 
rest  try  to  teach  him  humility,  and  show  him  that  he 
is  only  a  poor  mortal.  It  does  some  men  good  to 
have  their  diamonds  removed,  their  good  clothes  re 
placed  by  the  tattered  garments  of  the  tramp,  and 
then  let  them  look  at  themselves  and  see  how  little 
they  amount  to.  In  some  lodges  a  man  is  taught  a 
useful  lesson  by  stripping  him  to  the  buff  and  taking 
a  clapboard  and  letting  a  common  laborer  maul  him 
until  he  finds  out  that  he  is  not  the  whole  business. 
If  that  were  done  occasionally  by  society  you  wouldn't 
find  so  many  men  looking  over  the  common  people. 
It  would  take  the  starch  out  of  some  people  to  feel 


fi-Q,  A 

.  n.'/fT^^V-v" 


"It  du.b  not  take  opera  music  to  get  people  to  heaven," 


30  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

that  if  they  put  on  too  many  airs  they  would  be  liable 
to  have  a  boot  hit  them  any  time.  Lodges  sometimes 
make  good  men  out  of  the  worst  material.  In  some 
lodges  the  Prince  of  Wales  would  have  to  walk  tur 
key  right  beside  a  well-digger,  and  it  would  do  the 
prince  good  and  not  hurt  the  well-digger.  But  if  I 
was  in  your  place  I  would  not  join  a  lodge  yet.  Try 
the  Salvation  Army  first,"  and  Uncle  Ike  got  up  and 
went  to  the  window,  and  listened  to  the  bugle  and 
bass  drum  and  tambourine  of  the  army  as  it  passed  on 
its  nightly  round. 

"That  Salvation  army  makes  me  tired,"  said  the 
red-headed  boy,  as  he  reached  for  his  putty  blower. 
"  Going  around  the  streets  palming  that  noise  off  on 
the  public  for  music,  and  scaring  horses,  and  taking  up 
a  collection,  and  singing  out  of  tune.  Say,  I'll  bet  I 
can  blow  a  chunk  of  putty  into  that  girl's  bonnet  and 
make  her  jump  like  a  box  car  in  a  collision,"  and  the 
boy  opened  the  window  and  was  taking  aim  at  the 
tambourine  girl's  bonnet  when  Uncle  Ike  reached  out 
and  took  the  putty  blower  away  from  him  and  said : 

"  Don't  ever  worry  those  poor  people,  or  let  any 
other  boy  bother  them  when  you  are  around.  They 
are  entitled  to  the  respect  of  all  good  people.  It  does 
not  take  opera  music  to  get  people  to  heaven.  Even 
that  wretched  music  they  give  so  freely,  may  turn 
some  poor  wretch  from  the  wrong  to  the  right  way, 
and  a  poor  devil  who  becomes  a  follower  of  Christ 
from  practicing  following  the  Salvation  army  is  just  as 
welcome  in  heaven  as  though  he  went  to  church  with 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  Jt 

a  four-in-hand  and  listened  to  a  heavenly  choir  that  is 
paid  a  hundred  dollars  per.  It  does  not  seem  possible 
to  some  rich  people  that  St.  Peter  is  going  to  extend 
the  glad  hand  to  a  dockwolloper,  and  let  the  rich  man 
stand  out  in  the  cold  until  he  tells  how  he  used  his 
money  on  earth,  whether  to  oppress  the  poor  or  to 
make  them  glad.  Lots  of  men  are  going  to  be  fooled 
thinking  they  are  going  to  get  inside  the  pearly  gates 
on  the  strength  of  their  money,  but  some  of  them  may 
have  to  be  vouched  for  by  a  Salvation  army  lassie. 
So,  boy,  if  you  love  your  old  uncle,  always  respect  the 
religion  of  every  soul  on  earth,  and  don't  fire  putty  at 
any  girl's  bonnet.  You  hear  me  ? "  and  the  old  man 
patted  the  boy  on  the  back,  and  his  old  face  looked 
angelic,  through  the  tobacco  smoke  cloud. 

"Well,  Uncle  Ike,  you  are  the  queerest  man  I 
ever  saw,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  as  he  wiped  a 
tear  out  of  his  eye  with  his  shirt  sleeve.  "  There  is 
nothing  I  can  do  to  agree  with  you,  until  you  have 
talked  to  me  a  little.  When  I  feel  funny,  and  want 
to  laugh,  you  make  me  cry ;  and  when  I  get  serious 
about  something,  and  get  you  to  talking,  you  get  me 
to  laughing.  I  never  agree  with  you  until  you  have 
had  your  say.  But  I  agree  with  you  on  one  thing ; 
you  said  the  other  day,  when  we  were  talking  about 
breach  of  promise,  that  you  were  never  in  love. 
That's  where  you  and  I  are  alike.  It  makes  me 
weary  to  see  some  boys  in  love  with  girls,  and  run 
around  after  them,  and  make  themselves  laughing 
stock  of  everybody.  If  a  girl  should  get  in  love  with 


jl  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

me,  I  would  tell  her  to  go  to  thunder,  and  I  would 
laugh  at  her,  and  tell  all  the  boys  she  was  silly. 
There  is  no  good  in  love.  I  thought  I  liked  a  girl 
once,  and  gave  her  a  German  silver  ring  that  I  got 
off  an  old  china  pipe  stem ;  and  she  loved  me  just  a 
week,  and  then  she  shook  me  because  the  German 
silver  ring  corroded  on  her  finger  and  gave  her  blood 
poison.  It  wasn't  true  love,  or  she  would  have  stuck 
to  me  if  she  had  been  obliged  to  have  her  finger  am 
putated.  Bah !  I  was  so  discouraged  that  I  will 
never  have  anything  to  say  to  a  girl  again,  and  I  will 
grow  up  to  be  an  old  bach  like  you,  who  never  did 
love  anybody  but  a  dog.  Isn't  that  so,  Uncle  Ike  ? " 
"  Did  I  say  I  never  loved  any  woman  ? "  said  Uncle 
Ike,  as  he  looked  away  off,  apparently  his  eyes  pene 
trating  the  dim  past,  and  a  wet  spot  on  his  cheek  that 
kept  getting  wetter,  and  spreading  around  his  face, 
until  he  wiped  it  off  with  one  end  of  his  necktie. 
"  Why,  boy,  don't  you  ever  tell  your  ma,  but  I  have 
been  in  love  enough  to  send  a  man  to  the  insane  asy 
lum.  You  think  you  will  never  love  any  girl  again, 
on  account  of  that  blood  poisoning.  Why,  blood 
poison  is  nowhere  beside  love.  Some  day  you  will 
have  a  girl  pass  to  windward  of  you,  and  when  cool 
air  of  heaven  blows  a  breath  of  her  presence  toward 
you,  the  love  microbe  will  enter  your  system  with  the 
odor  of  violets  that  comes  from  her,  and  there  is  no 
medicine  on  earth  that  will  cure  you.  The  first  thing 
you  know  you  will  follow  that  girl  like  a  poodle,  and 
if  she  wants  you  to  walk  on  your  hands  and  knees, 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  33 

and  carry  her  parasol  in  your  mouth,  you  will  do  it. 
When  she  looks  at  you  the  perspiration  will  start  out 
all  over  you,  and  you  will  think  there  is  only  one  pair 
of  eyes  in  the  world,  that  all  beautiful  eyes  have  been 
consolidated  into  one  pair  of  blue  ones,  and  that  they 
are  as  big  as  moons.  If  you  touch  her  hand  you  will 
feel  a  thrill  go  up  your  arm  and  down  your  spine,  as 
you  do  when  a  four-pound  bass  strikes  your  frog  when 
you  are  fishing.  She  will  see  that  your  necktie  is  on 
sideways,  and  she  will  take  hold  of  it  to  fix  it,  and  you 
will  not  breathe  for  fear  she  will  go  away,  and  when 
she  gets  you  fixed  so  you  will  pass  in  a  crowd,  you 
will  be  paralyzed  all  over,  and  unable  to  move,  until 
she  beckons  you  to  come  along,  and  when  you  start 
to  walk  you  will  feel  all  over  like  your  foot  is  asleep. 
Walking  a  block  or  two  beside  this  girl  will  be  to  you 
better  than  a  trip  to  Europe,  and  a  look  at  her  face 
will  seem  to  you  a  glimpse  of  heaven,  and  angels,  and 
you  will  leave  her  after  the  too  short  interview,  and 
you  will  be  glad  you  are  alive,  and  then  you  may  see 
her  riding  in  a  street  car  with  another,  and  you  will 
want  to  commit  murder.  When  these  things  occur, 
boy,  you  are  in  love,  and  you  have  got  it  bad.  You 
think  you  don't  love  anybody,  but  you  will.  I  have 
been  there,  boy,  and  there  is  no  escape  without  taking 
to  the  woods,  and  love  will  make  a  trail  through  the 
forest,  and  over  glaciers,  and  catch  you  if  you  don't 
watch  out.  So  when  love  gets  into  your  system,  that 
way,  just  hold  up  your  hands  as  though  a  hold-up 
man  had  the  drop  on  you  with  a  revolver,  and  let  the 


34  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

girl  go  through  you.  The  only  way  I  escaped  was 
that  the  girl  married.  Now  go  away  and  let  me 
alone,  boy,  or  I  shall  have  to  take  you  across  my 
knee,"  and  the  red-headed  boy  backed  out  of  the  room 
and  left  Uncle  Ike,  his  trembling  fingers  rattling  the 
yellow  paper  of  tobacco,  trying  to  fill  his  pipe,  and  as 
the  boy  got  outdoors  and  blew  a  charge  of  putty  from 
his  blower  at  the  washwoman  bending  over  the  wash- 
tub,  he  said : 

"Well,  Uncle  Ike  hasn't  had  a  picnic  all  his  life." 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  35 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  your  Aunt  Almira  this 
morning?"  asked  Uncle  Ike  of  the  red-heaclcd  boy,  as 
he  came  out  into  the  garden  with  a  sling-shot,  and 
began  to  shoot  birdshot  at  the  little  cucumbers  that 
were  beginning  to  grow  away  from  the  pickle  vine,  as 
the  boy  called  the  cucumber  tree. 

"She's  turned  nigger,"  said  the  boy,  turning  his 
sling-shot  at  an  Italian  yelling  strawberries.  "  Wait 
till  I  hit  that  dago  on  the  side  of  the  nose,  and  you 
will  hear  a  noise  that  will  remind  you  of  Garibaldi 
crossing  the  Rubicon." 

"  Garibaldi  never  crossed  the  Rubicon,  and  you 
couldn't  hit  that  Italian  count  on  the  nose  in  a  week, 
and  if  you  did  he  would  chase  you  with  a  knife,  and 
tree  you  in  the  cellar  under  the  kindling  wood,  and  if 
I  interfered  he  would  gash  me  in  the  stomach  and 
claim  protection  from  his  government,  and  a  war 
would  only  be  averted  between  this  country  and  Italy 
by  an  apology  from  the  President,  saluting  the  Ital 
ian  flag  by  our  navy,  and  an  indemnity  paid  to  your 
dago  friend,  enough  to  support  him  in  luxury  the  bal 
ance  of  his  life.  So  be  careful  with  your  birdshot. 
But,  about  your  Aunt  Almira ;  she  was  yelling 
for  help  this  morning,  and  didn't  come  down  to 
breakfast." 

"Well,    sir,"    said    the   boy,    respectfully,    as    he 


36  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

sheathed  his  trusty  sling-shot  in  his  pistol  pocket, 
after  the  dago  had  felt  a  shot  strike  his  hat,  and  he 
looked  around  at  the  boy  with  the  whites  of  his  eyes 
glassy  and  his  earrings  shaking  with  wrath,  "  It  was 
all  on  account  of  the  innocentest  mistake  that  aunty 
is  ill  this  morning.  You  see,  every  night  she  puts 
cold  cream  all  over  her  face,  and  on  her  hands  clear 
up  above  her  wrists,  to  make  herself  soft.  Last 
night  she  forgot  it  until  she  had  got  in  bed  and  the 
light  was  put  out,  and  then  she  yelled  to  me  to  bring 
the  little  tin  box  out  of  the  bathroom,  and  I  was 
busy  studying  my  algebra  and  I  made  a  mistake  and 
got  the  shoe  dressing,  that  paste  that  they  put  on 
patent  leather  shoes.  Well,  Aunt  Almira  put  it  on 
generous,  and  rubbed  it  in  nice.  I  didn't  know  I  had 
made  a  mistake  until  this  morning,  but  I  couldn't 
sleep  a  wink  all  night  thinking  how  funny  aunty 
would  look  in  the  morning." 

"Hold  on,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  "don't  prevaricate. 
You  did  it  on  purpose,  and  knew  it  all  right,  and  let 
that  poor  lady  sleep  the  sleep  of  innocence,  blacker 
than  the  ace  of  spades.  Say,  if  you  was  mine  I 
would  have  a  continuous  performance  right  here  now," 
and  Uncle  Ike  run  his  tongue  a  couple  of  times  around 
a  dry  cigar  a  friend  had  given  him,  and  licked  the 
wrapper  so  it  would  hold  in  the  shoddy  filling.  "Don't 
interrupt  the  speaker,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  handed 
Uncle  Ike  a  match  to  touch  off  the  Roman  candle. 
"If  you  had  seen  Aunt  Almira,  just  after  she  had 
yelled  murder  the  third  time  this  morning,  you  would 


«'  Then  she  yelled  again  and  wanted  me  to  send  for  \he  doctor. 

37 


38  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

not  scold  me.  She  woke  up,  and  the  first  thing  that 
attracted  her  attention  was  her  hands,  and  she  thought 
she  had  gone  to  bed  with  her  long  black  kid  party 
gloves  on,  and  she  tried  to  pull  them  off.  When  she 
couldn't  get  them  off,  she  raised  up  in  bed  and  looked 
at  herself  in  a  mirror,  and  that  was  the  time  she 
yelled,  and  I  went  in  the  room  to  help  her.  Well, 
sir,  she  hadn't  missed  a  place  on  her  face,  neck  and 
arms,  and  the  paste  shone  just  like  patent  leather.  I 
said,  aunty,  you  can  go  into  the  nigger  show  business, 
and  she  said,  what  is  it,  and  I  said,  I  give  it  up  for  I 
am  no  end  man.  Then  she  yelled  again.  Oh,  dear,  I 
was  never  so  sorry  for  a  high-born  lady  in  my  life,  but 
to  encourage  her  I  told  her  I  read  of  a  white  woman 
in  Alabama  that  turned  black  in  a  single  night,  and 
the  niggers  would  never  have  anything  to  say  to  her, 
because  she  was  a  hoodoo,  and  wasn't  in  their  class, 
and  then  she  yelled  again  and  wanted  me  to  send  for 
a  doctor,  and  I  told  her  there  wasn't  any  negro  doctor 
in  town,  and  what  she  wanted  was  to  send  for  a  scrub 
woman,  and  then  I  showed  her  the  box  of  shoe  paste 
and  told  her  she  had  got  in  the  wrong  box,  and  she 
laid  it  to  me  and  shooed  me  out  of  the  room  like  I  was 
a  hen,  and  she  has  been  all  the  forenoon  trying  to 
wash  that  shoe  paste  off,  but  it  will  have  to  wear  off, 
'cause  it  is  fast  colors,  and  aunty  has  got  to  go  to  a 
heathen  meeting  at  the  church  to-night,  and  she  will 
have  to  send  regrets.  Don't  you  think  women  are 
awful  careless  about  their  toilets?"  and  the  boy 
rubbed  his  red  hair  with  a  piece  of  sand -paper,  be- 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  39 

cause  some  one  had  told  him  sand-paper  would  take 
the  red  out  of  his  hair. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  the  cigar 
swelled  up  in  the  center  and  began  to  curl  on  the 
end,  and  he  threw  it  to  the  hens,  and  watched  a 
rooster  pick  at  it  and  make  up  a  face,  "  if  I  was  your 
aunt  I  would  skin  you  alive  ?  If  you  were  a  little 
older,  we  would  ship  you  on  a  naval  vessel,  where  you 
couldn't  get  ashore  once  a  year,  and  you  could  get 
punished  every  day." 

"I  wouldn't  go  in  the  navy,  unless  I  could  be 
Dewey.  Dewey  has  a  snap.  Every  day  I  read  how 
he  has  ordered  some  man  thrown  overboard.  The 
other  day  a  Filipino  shoemaker  brought  him  a  pair  of 
shoes  and  charged  him  two  dollars  more  for  them 
than  he  agreed  to,  and  Dewey  turned  to  a  coxswain, 
or  a  belaying  pin,  or  something,  and  told  them  to 
throw  the  man  overboard.  Uncle  Ike,  do  you  think 
Dewey  throws  everybody  overboard  that  the  papers 
say  he  does  ?  " 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  like  to  contradict  a  newspajpRr," 
said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  thought  the  matter  over.  rl  ft 
has  seemed  to  me  for  some  time  that  Dewey  had  * 
habit  of  throwing  people  overboard  thai  would  be  lia 
ble  to  get  him  into  trouble  when  he  gets  home,  if  thd 
habit  sticks  to  him.  For  that  reason  I  \vo«ild  suggest 
that  the  house  that  is  to  be  presented  to  him  at 
Washington  be  a  one-story  house,  so  he  could  throw 
people  that  did  not  please  him  out  of  a  H'indow  and 
not  kill  them  too  dead.  When  he  gets  home  and 


40  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

settled  down,  it  is  likely  he  will  be  called  upon  by 
Mark  Hanna,  General  Alger  and  others,  and  they 
will  be  very  apt  to  give  Dewey  advice  as  to  how  he 
ought  to  conduct  himself,  and  what  he  ought  to  say ; 
and  if  he  had  an  office  in  the  top  of  a  ten-story  build 
ing,  the  janitor  or  the  policeman  in  the  street  would 
be  finding  the  remains  of  some  of  those  visitors  flat 
tened  out  on  the  sidewalk  so  they  would  have  to  be 
scraped  up  with  a  caseknife.  Throwing  people  over 
board  in  Manila  bay,  and  in  a  ten-story  flagship  in 
Washington,  is  going  to  be  different." 

"  Well,  boy,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  the  two  wandered 
around  the  garden,  looking  at  the  things  grow,  "  there 
is  a  sign  that  tomato  cans  are  ripe,  and  you  go  and  get 
one  and  I  will  hold  this  big,  fat  angleworm,"  and  he 
put  his  cane  in  front  of  a  four-inch  worm,  which  short 
ened  up  and  swelled  out  as  big  as  a  lead  pencil.  "  I 
want  just  a  quart  of  those  worms  in  cold  storage,  and 
tomorrow  we  will  go  fishing.  Don't  you  like  to  go 
out  in  the  woods,  by  a  stream,  and  hook  an  angleworm 
on  to  a  hook,  in  scallops,  so  he  will  look  just  as  though 
he  was  defying  the  fish,  and  throw  it  in,  and  wait  till 
you  get  a  nibble,  and  feel  the  electric  current  run  up 
your  arm,  and  then  the  fish  yanks  a  little,  and  you 
can't  refrain,  hardly,  from  jerking,  but  you  know  he 
hasn't  got  hold  enough  yet,  and  you  make  a  supreme 
effort  to  control  your  nerves,  and  by  and  by  he  takes 
it  way  down  his  neck,  and  you  know  he  is  your  meat, 
and  you  pull,  and  the  electricity  just  gives  you  a  shock, 
and " 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  41 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  boy,  interrupting  the  old  man, 
"  it  feels  just  like  going  home  with  a  girl  from  a  party, 
and  she  accidentally  touches  you,  and  it  goes  all  up 
and  down  you,  and  he  swallows  the  bait,  and  you  pull 
him  out  and  have  to  take  a  jackknife  and  cut  the  hook 
out  of  his  gills,  and  the  angleworm  is  all  chewed  up, 
and  when  she  looks  at  you  as  you  bid  her  goodnight 
and  says  it  was  kind  of  you  to  see  her  home,  and  puts 
out  her  hand  to  shake  you,  you  feel  as  though  there 
was  only  one  girl  in  the  whole  world,  and  when  you 
start  to  go  home  you  have  to  blow  your  fingers  to  keep 
them  warm,  and  pry  your  fingers  apart,  but  I  don't  like 
to  scale  'em  and  clean  'em,  but  when  they  are  fried  in 
butter  with  bread  crumbs,  and  you  have  baked  potatoes, 
gosh,  say,  but  you  can't  sleep  all  night  from  thinking 
maybe  the  next  party  you  go  to  some  other  boy  will 
ask  her  if  he  can't  see  her  home,  but  I  like  bullheads 
better  than  sunfish,  don't  you,  Uncle  Ike?"  and  the 
boy  went  on  filling  his  tomato  can  with  worms. 

"  I  have  just  one  favor  to  ask,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as 
he  puckered  up  his  mouth  in  a  smile,  then  laughed  so 
loud  that  it  sounded  like  raking  a  stick  along  a  picket 
fence,  "and  that  is  that  you  don't  mix  your  fish  up 
that  way.  When  the  subject  is  girls,  stick  to  girls, 
and  when  it  is  fish,  stay  by  the  fish.  I  know  there  is 
a  great  deal  of  similarity  in  the  way  they  bite,  but 
when  you  get  them  well  hooked  the  result  is  all  the 
same,  and  they  have  to  come  into  the  basket,  whether 
it  is  a  fish  or  a  girl.  The  way  a  girl  acts  reminds  me 
a  good  deal  of  a  black  bass.  You  throw  your  hook, 


42  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

nicely  baited  with  a  fat  angleworm,  into  the  water 
near  the  bass,  and  you  think  he  will  make  a  hop, 
skip,  and  jump  for  it,  but  he  looks  the  other  way, 
swims  around  the  worm,  and  pays  no  attention  to  it, 
but  if  he  sees  another  bass  pointing  toward  the 
worm  he  sticks  up  the  top  fin  on  his  back,  and  turns 
sideways,  and  looks  mad,  and  seems  to  say,  '  I'll  tend 
to  this  worm  myself,  and  you  go  away,'  and  the  bass 
finally  goes  up  and  snuffs  at  the  worm,  and  turns  up 
his  nose,  and  goes  away,  as  though  it  was  no  particu 
lar  interest  to  him,  but  he  turns  around  and  keeps 
his  eye  on  it,  though,  and  after  awhile  you  think  you 
will  pull  the  worm  out,  because  the  bass  isn't  very 
hungry,  anyway,  and  just  as  you  go  to  pull  it  up 
there  is  a  disturbance  in  the  water,  and  the  bass  that 
had  seemed  to  close  its  eyes  for  a  nice  quiet  nap, 
makes  a  six-foot  jump,  swallows  the  hook,  worm,  and 
eight  inches  of  the  line,  kicks  up  his  heels,  and  starts 
for  the  bottom  of  the  river,  and  you  think  you  have 
caught  onto  a  yearling  calf,  and  the  reel  sings  and 
burns  your  fingers,  and  the  bass  jumps  out  of  the 
water  and  tries  to  shake  the  hook  out  of  his  mouth, 
and  you  work  hard,  and  act  carefully,  for  fear  you  will 
lose  him,  and  you  try  to  figure  how  much  he  weighs, 
and  whether  you  will  have  him  fried  or  baked,  and 
whether  you  will  invite  a  neighbor  to  dinner,  who  is 
always  joking  you  about  never  catching  any  fish,  and 
then  you  get  him  up  near  you,  and  he  is  tired  out,  and 
you  think  you  never  saw  such  a  nice  bass,  and  that  it 
weighs  at  least  six  pounds,  and  just  as  you  are  reach- 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  43 

ing  out  with  the  landing  net,  to  take  him  in,  he  gives 
one  kick,  chews  off  the  line,  you  fall  over  backwards, 
and  the  bass  disappears  with  a  parting  flop  of  the  tail, 
and  a  man  who  is  fishing  a  little  ways  off  asks  you 
what  you  had  on  your  hook,  and  you  say  that  it  was 
nothing  but  a  confounded  dogfish,  anyway,  and  you 
wind  up  your  reel  and  go  home,  and  you  are  so  mad 
and  hot  that  the  leaves  on  the  trees  curl  up  and  turn 
yellow  like  late  in  the  fall.  Many  a  girl  has  acted 
just  that  way,  and  finally  chewed  off  the  line,  and  let 
the  man  fall  with  a  dull  thud,  and  after  he  has  got 
over  it  he  says  to  those  who  have  watched  the  ang 
ling  that  she  was  not  much  account,  anyway,  but  all 
the  time  he  knows  by  the  feeling  of  goneness  inside 
of  him  that  he  lies  like  a  Spaniard,"  and  Uncle  Ike 
tied  a  handkerchief  over  the  tomato  can  to  keep  the 
worms  in,  and  said  to  the  boy,  "  Now,  if  you  can  get 
up  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  will  go  and  get 
a  fine  mess." 

"  Mess  of  bass  or  girls  ?"  said  the  boy,  as  he  looked 
up  at  the  old  man  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  Bass,  by  gosh  !"  said  Uncle  Ike. 


44  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Here,  what  you  up  to,  you  young  heathen  ? "  said 
Uncle  Ike,  as  a  pair  of  small  boxing  gloves,  about  as 
big  as  goslings,  struck  him  in  the  solar  plexus  and  all 
the  way  down  his  stomach,  and  he  noticed  a  red 
streak  rushing  about  the  room,  side-stepping  and 
ducking.  "  You  are  a  nice  looking  Sunday-school 
scholar,  you  are,  dancing  around  as  though  you  were 
in  the  prize  ring.  Who  taught  you  that  foolishness, 
and  what  are  you  trying  *to  do  ? "  and  the  old  man 
cornered  the  red-headed  boy  between  the  bookcase 
and  the  center-table,  and  took  him  across  his  knee, 
and  fanned  his  trousers  with  a  hand  as  big  as  a  can 
vas  ham,  until  he  said  he  threw  up  the  sponge. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  as  the 
old  man  let  him  up  and  he  felt  of  his  trousers  to  see 
if  they  were  warm,  "  I  am  going  into  the  prize-fight 
ing  business,  and  Aunt  Almira,  who  is  studying  for 
the  stage,  is  teaching  me  to  box.  Gee,  but  she  can 
give  you  a  blow  with  her  left  across  the  ear  that  will 
make  you  think  Jeffries  has  put  on  a  shirt-waist,  and 
a  turquoise  ring,  and  she  and  I  are  going  to  form  a 
combination  and  make  a  barrel  of  money.  Say,  Aunt 
Almira  has  got  so  she  can  kick  clear  up  to  the  gas 
jet,  and  she  wants  to  play  Juliet.  I  am  going  to  play 
Jeffries  to  her  Juliet." 

"  Oh,  you  and  your  aunt  have  got  things  all  mixed 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  45 

up.  She  does  not  have  to  kick  to  play  Juliet.  And 
you  can't  box  well  enough  to  get  into  the  kindergar 
ten  class  of  prize  fighters.  What  you  want  to  fight 
for  anyway  ?  Better  go  and  study  your  Sunday-school 
lesson." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  tied  on  a  boxing 
glove  by  taking  the  string  in  his  teeth,  "  there  is  more 
money  in  prize  fighting  than  anything,  and  Jeffries 
was  a  nice  Sunday-school  boy,  and  his  father  is  a 
preacher,  and  he  said  the  Lord  was  on  the  side  of  Jim 
in  the  fight  that  knocked  out  Fitzsimmons.  Do  you 
believe,  Uncle  Ike,  that  the  Lord  was  in  the  ring  there 
at  Coney  Island,  seconding  Jeffries,  and  that  the 
prayers  of  Jeffries'  preacher  father  had  anything  to  do 
with  Fitzsimmons  getting  it  right  and  left  in  the  slats 
and  on  the  jaw  ?  " 

"  No  !  No  !  No  !"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  shuddered 
with  disgust  at  the  thought  that  the  good  Lord  should 
be  mixed  up  in  such  things  just  to  make  newspaper 
sensations.  "There  is  not  much  going  on  that  the 
Lord  is  not  an  eye-witness  of,  but  when  it  comes  to 
being  on  one  side  or  the  other  of  a  prize  fight  He  has 
got  other  business  of  more  importance.  He  watches 
even  a  sparrow's  fall,  but  it  is  mighty  doubtful  in  my 
mind  whether  he  paid  any  attention  as  to  which  of  the 
two  prize-fighting  brutes  failed  to  get  up  in  ten  sec 
onds.  Boxing  is  all  right,  and  I  believe  in  it,  and  want 
all  boys  to  learn  how  to  do  it,  in  order  that  they  may 
protect  themselves,  or  protect  a  weak  person  from 
assault,  but  it  ought  to  stop  there.  Men  who  fight 


46  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

each  other  for  money  ought  to  be  classed  with  bull 
dogs,  wear  muzzles  and  a  dog  license,  and  be  shunned 
by  all  decent  people,"  and  the  old  man  lit  his  pipe 
with  deliberation  and  smoked  a  long  time  in  silence. 

"  But  they  make  money,  don't  they  ? "  said  the  boy, 
who  thought  that  making  money  was  the  chief  end  of 
man.  "  Think  of  making  thirty  thousand  dollars  in 
one  night ! " 

"  Yes,  and  think  of  the  train  robbers  who  make  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars  a  night,"  said  the  old  man ; 
"and  what  good  did  any  money  made  by  train  rob 
bing  or  prize  fighting  ever  do  anybody  ?  The  men 
who  make  money  that  way,  blow  it  in  for  something 
that  does  them  no  good,  and  when  they  come  to  die 
you  have  to  take  up  a  collection  to  bury  them.  Don't 
be  a  prize  fighter  or  a  train  robber  if  you  can  help  it, 
boy,  and  don't  ever  get  the  idea  that  the  Lord  is 
sitting  up  nights  holding  pool  tickets  on  a  prize  fight." 

"  Uncle  Ike,  why  didn't  you  go  to  the  circus  the 
other  night  ?  We  had  more  fun,  and  lemonade,  and 
peanuts,  and  the  clown  was  so  funny,"  said  the  boy  ; 
"  and  they  had  a  fight,  and  a  circus  man  threw  a  man 
out  of  the  tent ;  and  a  woman  rode  on  a  horse  with 
those  great,  wide  skirts,  and  rosin  on  her  feet  and 
everywhere,  so  she  would  stick  on,  and— 

"Oh,  don't  tell  me,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  ran  a 
broom  straw  into  his  pipe  stem  to  open  up  the  pores; 
"  I  was  brought  up  among  circuses,  and  used  to  sit  up 
all  night  and  go  out  on  the  road  to  meet  the  old  wagon 
show  coming  to  town.  Did  you  ever  go  away  out  five 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  47 

or  six  miles,  in  the  night,  to  meet  a  circus,  and  get  tired, 
and  lay  down  by  the  road  and  go  to  sleep,  and  have 
the  dew  on  the  grass  wet  your  bare  feet  and  trousers 
clear  up  to  your  waistband,  and  suddenly  have  the 
other  boys  wake  you  up,  and  there  was  a  fog  so  you 
couldn't  see  far,  and  suddenly  about  daylight  you 
hear  a  noise  like  a  hog  that  gets  frightened  and  says 
"Woof!"  and  there  coming  out  of  the  fog  right  on  to 
you  is  the  elephant,  looking  larger  than  a  house,  and 
you  keep  still  for  fear  of  scaring  him,  and  he  passes 
on  and  then  the  camels  come,  and  the  cages,  and  the 
sleepy  drivers  letting  the  six  horses  go  as  they  please, 
and  the  wagons  with  the  tents,  and  the  performers 
sleeping  on  the  bundles,  and  the  band  wagon  with  all 
the  musicians  asleep,  and  the  lions  and  tigers  don't 
say  anything;  and  you  never  do  anything  except  keep 
your  eyes  bulging  out  till  they  get  by,  and  then  you 
realize  you  are  six  miles  from  home,  and  you  follow 
the  procession  into  town,  and  when  you  get  home 
your  parents  take  you  across  a  chair  and  pet  you  with 
a  press  board  for  being  out  all  night,  until  you  are  so 
blistered  that  you  cannot  sit  down  on  a  seat  at  the 
circus  in  the  afternoon.  Oh,  I  have  been  there,  boy, 
barefooted  and  bareheaded,  with  a  hickory  shirt  on 
open  clear  down,  and  torn  trousers  opened  clear  up. 
Lemonade  never  tastes  like  it  does  at  a  circus,  saw 
dust  never  smells  the  same  anywhere  else,  and  noth 
ing  in  the  whole  world  smells  like  a  circus,"  and  the 
old  man's  face  lighted  up  as  though  the  recollection 
had  made  him  young  again. 


48  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  fight  at  a  circus,  Uncle  Ike  ? " 
asked  the  red-headed  boy,  who  seemed  to  have  been 
more  impressed  with  the  fight  he  had  seen  than  with 
the  performance. 

"  See  a  circus  fight  ? "  said  Uncle  Ike.  "  Gosh,  I 
was  right  in  the  midst  of  a  circus  fight,  where  several 
people  were  killed,  and  the  whole  town  was  a  hospital 
for  a  month.  See  that  scar  on  top  of  my  head,"  and 
the  old  man  pointed  with  pride  to  a  place  on  his  head 
that  looked  as  though  a  mule  had  kicked  him.  "I 
was  a  deputy  constable  the  day  Levi  J.  North's  old 
circus,  menagerie  and  troupe  of  Indians  showed  in  the 
old  town  where  I  lived.  Some  country  boys  got  in  a 
muss  with  a  side-show  barker  and  they  got  to  fighting, 
and  some  Irish  railroad  graders  heard  the  row,  and 
they  rushed  in  with  spades  and  picks  and  clubs,  and 
some  gentleman  said,  '  Hey,  Rheube,'  and  the  circus 
men  came  rushing  out,  and  I  came  up  with  a  tin  star, 
and  said,  '  In  the  name  of  the  state  I  command  the 
peace,'  and  I  grabbed  a  circus  man  by  the  arm,  and 
an  Irishman  named  Gibbons  said,  'to  hell  wid  'em,' 
and  then  a  box  car  or  something  struck  me  on  the 
head,  and  I  laid  down,  and  three  hundred  circus  men 
and  about  the  same  number  of  countrymen  and  rail 
road  hands  walked  on  me,  and  they  fought  for  an 
hour,  and  when  the  people  got  me  home  and  I  woke 
up  the  circus  had  been  gone  a  week,  and  they  had 
buried  those  who  died,  and  a  whole  lot  were  in  jail, 
and  my  head  didn't  get  down  so  I  could  get  my  hat 
on  before  late  in  the  fall." 


r^S/***i   " ^  grabbed  %  circus  man  by  the  arm.'* 
\V  4, 


50  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

"Did  you  resign  as  constable?"  asked  the  red 
headed  boy,  and  he  looked  at  Uncle  Ike  with  awe,  as 
he  would  at  a  hero  of  a  hundred  battles. 

"  Did  I  ?  That's  the  first  thing  I  did  when  I  came 
to,  and  I  have  never  looked  at  a  tin  star  on  a  deputy 
since  without  a  shudder,  and  I  have  never  let  an  ad 
miring  public  force  any  office  on  to  me  to  this  day. 
One  day  in  a  public  office  was  enough  for  your  Uncle 
Ike,  but  I  would  like  to  go  to  a  circus  once  more  and 
listen  to  those  old  jokes  of  the  clown,  which  were  so 
old  that  we  boys  knew  them  by  heart  sixty  years 
ago,"  and  Uncle  Ike  lighted  his  pipe  again,  and  tried 
to  laugh  at  one  of  the  old  jokes. 

"  Uncle  Ike,  I've  got  a  scheme  to  get  rich,  and  I 
will  take  you  into  partnership  with  me,"  said  the  red 
headed  boy,  as  Uncle  Ike  began  to  cool  off  from  his 
circus  story.  "  You  go  in  with  me  and  furnish  the 
money,  and  I  will  buy  a  lot  of  hens,  and  fix  up  the 
back  yard  with  lath,  and  just  let  the  hens  lay  eggs 
and  raise  chickens,  and  we  will  sell  them.  I  have 
figured  it  all  up,  and  by  starting  with  ten  hens  and 
two  roosters,  and  let  them  go  ahead  and  attend  to 
business,  in  twenty  years  we  would  have  seventeen 
million  nine  hundred  and  sixty-one  fowls,  which  at  i  o 
cents  a  pound  about  Thanksgiving  time  would  amount 

"  There,  there,  come  off,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  lit 
up  the  old  pipe  again,  and  got  his  thinker  a'thinking. 
"  I  know  what  you  want.  You  want  to  get  me  in  on 
the  ground  floor.  I  have  been  in  more  things  on  the 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  51 

ground  floor  than  anybody,  but  there  was  always  an 
other  fellow  in  the  cellar.  You  are  figuring  hens  the 
way  you  do  compound  interest,  but  you  are  away  off. 
Life  is  too  short  to  wait  for  compound  interest  on  a 
dollar  to  make  a  fellow  rich,  and  cutting  coupons  off 
a  hen  is  just  the  same.  I  started  a  hen  ranch  fifty 
years  ago,  on  the  same  theory,  and  went  broke.  There 
is  no  way  to  make  money  on  hens  except  to  turn  them 
loose  on  a  farm,  and  have  a  woman  with  an  apron 
over  her  head  hunt  eggs,  and  sell  them  as  quick  as 
they  are  laid,  before  a  hen  has  a  chance  to  get  the 
fever  to  set.  You  open  a  hen  ranch  in  the  back  yard, 
and  your  hens  will  lay  like  thunder,  when  eggs  are  four 
cents  a  dozen,  but  when  eggs  are  two  shillings  a  dozen 
you  might  take  a  hen  by  the  neck  and  shake  her  and 
you  couldn't  get  an  egg.  When  eggs  are  high,  hens 
just  wander  around  as  though  they  did  not  care 
whether  school  kept  or  not,  and  they  kick  up  a  dust 
and  lallygag,  and  get  some  disease,  and  eat  all  the 
stuff  you  can  buy  for  them,  and  they  will  make  such 
a  noise  the  neighbors  will  set  dogs  on  them,  and  the 
roosters  will  get  on  strike  and  send  walking  delegates 
around  to  keep  hens  from  laying,  and  then  when  eggs 
get  so  cheap  they  are  not  good  enough  to  throw  at  jay 
actors,  the  whole  poultry  yard  will  begin  to  work  over 
time,  and  you  have  eggs  to  spare.  If  the  hens  in 
creased  as  you  predict  in  your  prospectus  to  me,  it 
would  take  all  the  money  in  town  to  buy  food  for 
them,  and  if  you  attempted  to  realize  on  your  hens  to 
keep  from  bankruptcy,  everybody  would  quit  eating 


52  Peck's   Uncle  Ike 

chicken  and  go  to  eating  mutton,  and  there  you  are. 
I  decline  to  invest  in  a  hen  ranch  right  here  now,  and 
if  you  try  to  inveigle  me  into  it  I  shall  have  you  ar 
rested  as  a  gold-brick  swindler,"  and  Uncle  Ike  patted 
the  red-headed  boy  on  the  shoulder  and  ran  a  great 
hard  thumb  into  his  ribs. 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  53 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  Say,  Uncle  Ike,  did  you  see  this  in  the  paper 
about  fifty  ambulances  being  lost,  on  the  way  to 
Tampa,  Florida,  last  year?"  said  the  red-headed  boy, 
as  Uncle  Ike  sat  in  an  armchair,  with  his  feet  on  the 
center-table,  his  head  down  on  his  bosom,  his  pipe 
gone  out,  yet  hanging  sideways  out  of  the  corner  of 
his  mouth,  and  the  ashes  spilled  all  over  his  shirt 
bosom.  "Seventeen  carloads  of  ambulances  that 
started  all  right  for  Tampa,  never  showed  up,  and  the 
government  is  writing  everywhere  to  have  them  looked 
up.  Wouldn't  that  skin  you?"  and  the  boy  stood  up 
beside  Uncle  Ike,  took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth, 
filled  it  again,  brushed  the  ashes  off  his  shirt,  and 
handed  him  a  lighted  wax  match  that  he  had  found 
somewhere.  Uncle  Ike  put  the  match  to  his  pipe, 
took  a  few  whiffs,  stuck  up  his  nose,  threw  the  match 
into  the  fireplace,  and  said : 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  tallow  match  ?  Gosh, 
I  had  just  as  soon  light  my  pipe  with  kerosene  oil. 
Always  give  me  a  plain,  old-fashioned  brimstone 
match,  if  you  love  me,  and  keep  out  of  my  sight  these 
cigarette  matches,  that  smell  like  a  candle  that  has 
been  blown  out  when  it  needed  snuffing."  And  the 
old  man  began  to  wake  up,  as  the  tobacco  smoke 
went  searching  through  his  hair  and  up  to  the  ceiling. 
"And  so  the  government  lost  fifty  ambulances  in 


54  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

transit,  eh  ?  Well,  they  will  be  searching  the  returned 
soldiers  next,  to  see  if  the  boys  got  away  with  them, 
and  never  think  of  looking  up  the  contractors,  who 
probably  never  shipped  them  at  all.  It  must  be  that 
the  boys  got  tired  of  embalmed  beef,  and  ate  the  am 
bulances.  When  a  man  is  hungry  you  take  a  slice  of 
nice,  fresh  ambulance,  and  broil  it  over  the  coals,  with 
plenty  of  seasoning,  and  a  soldier  could  sustain  life  on 
it.  The  government  must  be  crippled  for  ambu 
lances,  and  I  think  we  better  get  up  a  subscription  to 
buy  some  more.  An  ambulance  famine  is  a  terrible 
thing,  and  I  have  my  opinion  of  a  soldier  who  will 
steal  an  ambulance.  When  I  was  in  the  army,  I  re 
member  that  at  the  battle  of  Stone  River  we " 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Ike,  please  don't  tell  me  any  of  your 
terrible  army  experiences,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  remem 
bered  that  he  had  heard  his  uncle  tell  of  being  in  at 
least  a  hundred  battles,  when  the  history  of  the  family 
showed  that  the  old  man  was  only  south  during  the 
war  for  about  six  months,  and  he  brought  home  a 
blacksnake  whip  as  a  souvenir,  and  it  was  believed 
that  he  had  worked  in  the  quartermaster's  depart 
ment,  driving  mules.  "  Let  us  talk  about  something 
enjoyable  this  beautiful  day.  How  would  you  like  to 
be  out  on  a  lake,  or  river,  today,  in  a  boat,  drifting 
around,  and  forgetting  everything,  and  having  fun?" 

"I  don't  want  any  drifting  around  in  mine,"  said 
Uncle  Ike,  as  he  got  up  from  his  chair,  limped  a  lit 
tle  on  his  rheumatic  leg,  and  went  to  the  window  and 
looked  out,  and  wished  he  were  young  again.  "  Don't 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  55 

you  ever  drift  when  you  are  out  in  a  boat.  You  just 
take  the  oars  and  pull,  somewhere,  it  don't  make 
any  difference  where,  as  long  as  you  pull.  Row 
against  the  current,  and  against  the  wind,  and 
bend  your  back,  and  make  the  boat  jump,  but 
don't  drift.  If  you  get  in  the  habit  of  drifting  when 
you  are  a  boy,  you  will  drift  when  you  are  a  man,  and 
not  pull  against  the  stream.  The  drifting  boy  be 
comes  a  drifting  business  man,  who  sits  still  and  lets 
those  who  row  get  away  from  him.  The  drifting 
lawyer  sits  and  drifts,  and  waits,  and  sighs  because 
people  do  not  find  out  that  he  is  great.  He  wears 
out  pants  instead  of  shoe  leather.  When  you  see  a 
man  the  seat  of  whose  pants  are  shiny  and  almost 
worn  through,  while  his  shoes  are  not  worn,  except 
on  the  heels,  where  he  puts  them  on  the  table,  and 
waits  and  dreams,  you  can  make  up  your  mind  that 
he  drifted  instead  of  rowed,  when  he  was  a  boy,  out 
in  a  boat.  The  merchant  who  goes  to  his  store  late 
in  the  morning,  and  sits  around  awhile,  and  leaves 
early  in  the  afternoon,  and  only  shows  enterprise  in 
being  cross  to  the  clerk  who  lets  a  customer  escape 
with  car  fare  to  get  home,  is  a  drifter,  who  stands  still 
in  his  mercantile  boat  while  his  neighbors  who  row, 
and  push,  and  paddle,  are  running  away  from  him. 
The  boy  who  drifts  never  catches  the  right  girl.  He 
drifts  in  to  call  on  her,  and  drifts  through  the  even 
ing,  and  nothing  has  been  done,  and  when  she  begins 
to  yawn,  he  drifts  away.  She  stands  this  drifting 
sort  of  love-making  as  long  as  she  can,  and  by  and 


56  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

by  there  comes  along  a  boy  who  rows,  and  he  keeps 
her  awake,  and  they  go  off  on  a  spin  on  their  wheels, 
and  they  can't  drift  on  wheels  if  they  try,  because 
they  have  got  to  keep  pushing,  and  before  he  knows 
it  the  drifting  boy  finds  that  the  boy  who  rows  is 
miles  ahead  with  the  girl,  and  all  the  drifting  boy  can 
do  is  to  yawn  and  say,  "  Just  my  dumbed  luck."  Dogs 
that  just  drift  and  lay  in  the  shade,  and  loll,  never 
amount  to  anything.  The  dog  that  digs  out  the 
woodchuck  does  not  drift;  he  digs  and  barks,  and 
saws  wood,  and  by  and  by  he  has  the  woodchuck  by 
the  pants,  and  shakes  the  daylights  out  of  him.  He 
might  lay  by  the  woodchuck  hole  and  drift  all  day, 
and  the  woodchuck  would  just  stay  in  the  hole  and 
laugh  at  the  dog.  The  pointer  dog  that  stays  under 
the  wagon  never  comes  to  a  point  on  chickens,  and 
the  duck  dog  that  stays  on  the  shore  and  waits  for 
the  dead  duck  to  drift  in,  is  not  worth  the  dog  biscuit 
he  eats. 

"  No,  boy,  whatever  you  do  in  this  world,  don't 
drift  around,  but  row  as  though  you  were  going  after 
the  doctor,"  and  the  old  man  turned  from  the  window 
and  put  his  arm  around  the  red-headed  boy,  and 
hugged  him  until  he  heard  something  rattle  in  the 
boy's  side  pocket,  and  the  boy  pulled  out  a  box  with 
the  cover  off,  and  a  white  powder  scattered  over  his 
clothes.  "  What  is  that  powder  ? "  asked  the  old 
uncle. 

"That  is  some  of  this  foot-ease  that  I  saw  adver 
tised  in  the  paper.  Aunt  Almira  likes  pigs'  feet,  and 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  57 

she  says  they  lay  hard  on  her  stomach;  so  I  got 
some  foot-ease  and  sprinkled  a  little  on  her  pigs'  feet 
for  lunch,  and  she  ate  it  all  right.  Say,  don't  you 
think  it  is  nice  to  be  trying  to  do  kind  acts  for  your 
auntie? " 

"  Yes ;  but  if  she  ever  finds  out  about  that  pigs' 
foot  ease,  she  will  make  you  think  your  trousers  are 
warmer  than  your  hair.  You  strike  me  as  being  a 
boy  that  resembles  a  tornado.  No  one  knows  when 
you  are  going  to  become  dangerous,  or  where  you  are 
going  to  strike.  You  and  a  tornado  are  a  good  deal 
like  a  cross-eyed  man ;  you  don't  strike  where  you 
look  as  though  you  were  aiming,  and  suddenly  you 
strike  where  you  are  not  looking,  and  where  nobody 
is  looking  for  you  to  strike.  Nature  must  have  been 
in  a  curious  mood  when  she  produced  cross-eyed  men, 
red-headed  boys  and  tornadoes.  What  do  you  think 
ought  to  be  done  to  Nature  for  giving  me  a  red 
headed  boy  to  bring  up,  eh,  you  rascal  ?  "  and  the  old 
man  chucked  the  boy  under  the  chin,  as  though  he 
wasn't  half  as  mad  at  Nature  as  he  pretended  to  be. 

"  Uncle  Ike,  do  you  think  a  tornado  could  be  bro 
ken  up,  when  it  got  all  ready  to  tear  a  town  to  pieces, 
by  shooting  into  it  with  a  cannon,  as  the  scientific 
people  say  ? "  said  the  boy,  climbing  up  into  the  old 
man's  lap,  and  slyly  putting  a  handful  of  peanut 
shucks  down  under  the  waistband  of  his  uncle's 
trousers. 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  wig 
gled  around  a  little  when  the  first  peanut  shuck  got 


58  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

down  near  the  small  of  his  back.  "  These  scientific 
people  make  me  weary,  talking  about  preventing  tor 
nadoes  by  firing  cannon  into  the  funnel-shaped  clouds. 
Why  don't  they  do  it  ?  If  a  tornado  came  up,  you 
would  find  these  cannon  sharps  in  a  cellar  somewhere. 
They  are  a  passel  of  condemned  theorists,  and  they 
want  someone  else  to  take  sight  over  a  cannon  at  an 
approaching  tornado,  while  the  sharps  look  through  a 
peep-hole  and  see  how  it  is  going  to  work.  You 
might  have  a  million  cannon  loaded  ready  for  tor 
nadoes,  and  when  one  came  up  it  would  come  so 
quick  nobody  would  think  of  the  cannon,  and  every 
body  would  dig  out  for  a  place  of  safety.  Not  one 
artilleryman  in  a  million  could  hit  a  tornado  in  a  vital 
part.  Do  these  people  think  tornadoes  are  going 
around  with  a  target  tied  on  them,  for  experts  to  shoot 
cannon  balls  at  ?  A  tornado  is  like  one  of  these 
Fourth  of  July  nigger-chasers,  that  you  touch  off  and 
it  starts  somewhere  and  changes  its  mind  and  turns 
around  and  goes  sideways,  and  when  it  finds  a  girl 
looking  the  other  way  it  everlastingly  makes  for  her 
and  runs  into  her  pantalets  when  she  would  swear  it 
was  pointed  the  other  way.  No,  I  am  something  of  a 
sportsman  myself,  and  can  shoot  a  gun  some,  but  if  I 
had  a  cannon  in  each  hand  loaded  for  elephants,  and 
I  should  see  a  tornado  going  the  other  way,  I  would 
drop  both  guns  and  crawl  into  a  hole,  and  the  tornado 
would  probably  turn  around  and  pick  up  the  guns  and 
fire  them  into  the  hole  I  was  in.  That's  the  kind  of 
an  insect  a  tornado  is,  and  don't  you  ever  fool  with 


"  My  boy,  you  are  going  to  lose  your  Uncle  Ike.' 
59 


60  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

one.  A  tornado  is  worse  than  a  battle.  I  remember 
when  we  were  at  the  battle  of  Gettysburg " 

"  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake,  Uncle  Ike,  what  have  I 
done  that  you  should  fight  that  war  all  over  again 
every  time  I  try  to  have  a  quiet  talk  with  you  ?  "  and 
the  boy  stuffed  his  fingers  in  his  ears,  and  got  up  off 
the  old  man's  lap,  and  the  uncle  got  up  and  walked 
around,  and  when  the  peanut  shells  began  to  work 
down  his  legs,  and  scratch  his  skin,  and  he  found  his 
foot  asleep  from  holding  the  big  boy  in  his  lap,  the  old 
man  thought  he  was  stricken  with  paralysis,  and  he 
sat  down  again,  and  called  the  boy  to  him  and  said,  in 
a  trembling  voice : 

"  My  boy,  you  are  going  to  lose  your  Uncle  Ike.  I 
feel  that  the  end  is  coming,  and  before  I  go  to  the 
beautiful  beyond  I  want  to  say  a  few  serious  words  to 
you.  It  is  coming  as  I  had  hoped.  The  disease  be 
gins  at  my  feet,  and  will  work  up  gradually,  paralyzing 
my  limbs,  then  my  body,  and  lastly  my  brain  will  be 
seized  by  the  destroyer,  and  then  it  will  all  be  over 
with  your  Uncle  Ike.  Remove  my  shoes,  my  boy, 
and  I  will  tell  you  a  story.  When  we  scaled  the  per 
pendicular  wall  at  Lookout  Mountain,  in  the  face  of 
the  Confederate  guns,  and " 

"  Can  this  be  death  ? "  said  the  boy,  as  he  took  off 
one  of  the  old  man's  shoes  and  emptied  out  a  handful 
of  peanut  shucks,  and  laughed  loud  and  long. 

"Well,  by  gum !"  said  Uncle  Ike,  "peanuts  instead 
of  paralysis,"  and  he  jumped  up  and  kicked  high  with 
the  lately  paralyzed  legs;"  now,  I  haven't  eaten  peanuts 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  61 

in  a  week,  and  I  suppose  those  shucks  have  been  in 
my  clothes  all  this  time.  I  am  not  going  to  die.  Go 
dig  some  worms  and  I  will  show  you  the  liveliest 
corpse  that  ever  caught  a  mess  of  bullheads,"  and  the 
boy  dropped  the  shoe  and  went  out  winking  and 
laughing  as  though  he  was  having  plenty  of  fun,  and 
Uncle  Ike  went  to  a  mirror  and  looked  at  himself  to 
see  if  he  was  really  alive. 


Peck's   Uncle   Ik* 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  You  are  a  nice-looking  duck,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as 
the  red-headed  boy  came  into  the  sitting-room  with  a 
biacK.  eye  and  a  scratch  across  his  nose,  and  one 
thurib  tied  up  in  a  rag,  but  looking  as  well,  otherwise, 
as  cculd  be  expected.  "  What  you  been  doing  ?  Run 
over  by  a  trolley  car  or  anything  ? " 

"  Nope,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  looked  in  the  mirror  to 
see  how  his  eye  was  coloring,  with  all  the  pride  of  a 
man  who  is  coloring  a  meerschaum;  "I  just  had  a 
fight.  Licked  a  boy,  that's  all,"  and  he  put  his  hand 
to  his  head,  where  a  lock  of  his  red  hair  had  been 
pulled  out. 

"  You  look  as  though  you  had  licked  a  boy,"  said 
the  old  man  taking  a  good  look  at  the  blue  .spot 
around  the  boy's  eye.  "  I  suppose  he  is  telling  his 
folks  how  he  licked  you,  too.  My  experience  has 
been  that  in  these  boys'  fights  you  can't  tell  which 
licks  until  you  hear  both  stories.  What  was  it  about, 
anyway  ? " 

"  He  lied  about  you,  Uncle  Ike,  and  I  choked  him 
until  he  said  'peunk,'  and  then  I  let  him  up,  but  he 
wouldn't  apologize,  and  said  he  would  leave  it  to  you, 
if  what  he  said  was  true  or  not,  and  here  he  comes 
now,"  and  the  red-headed  boy  opened  the  door  and 
ushered  in  a  boy  about  his  own  size,  with  two  black 
eyes  and  a  piece  peeled  off  his  cheek,  and  one  arm  in 
a  sling. 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  63 

"  Which  is  Jeffries  ? "  asked  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  filled 
his  pipe,  and  looked  over  the  two  companions  who  haa 
been  scrapping. 

"  He  is  Jeffries,"  said  the  visitor,  "  and  I  am  Fitz 
simmons,  but  I  want  to  have  another  go  at  him 
unless  we  leave  it  to  arbitration,"  and  the  boy  looked 
at  the  red-headed  boy  with  blood  in  his  eye,  and  ai 
Uncle  Ike  with  a  look  of  no  particular  admiration. 

"  Well,  what  was  the  cause  of  the  row  ?  "  said  Un 
cle  Ike,  as  he  took  a  chair  between  the  two  boys,  lit 
his  pipe,  and  smiled  as  he  saw  the  marks  of  combat 
on  their  persons. 

"He  said  you  used  to  be  a  drunkard,  Uncle  Ike, 
and  had  been  to  the  Keeley  cure,  and  I  called  him  a 
liar,  and  then  we  mixed  up." 

"That's  about  the  size  of  it,"  said  the  other  boyj 
"  now,  which  was  right  ? " 

Uncle  Ike  smoked  up  and  filled  the  room  so  it 
looked  like  camping  out  and  cooking  over  a  fire  made 
of  wet  wood,  and  thought  a  long  time,  and  looked 
very  serious,  and  the  red-headed  boy  could  see  they 
were  in  for  a  talk.  Finally  the  old  man  said : 

"Boys,  you  are  both  right  and  both  wrong,  and  I'll 
tell  you  all  about  it.  I  never  was  a  drunkard,  and 
never  drank  much,  but  I  have  been  to  the  cure  all 
the  same.  It  was  this  way :  I  had  a  friend  who  was 
one  of  the  best  men  that  ever  lived,  only  he  got  a 
habit  of  drinking  too  much,  and  no  one  seemed  able 
to  reason  with  him.  He  wouldn't  take  advice  from 
his  own  mother,  his  wife,  or  me,  or  anybody.  He 


64  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

was  just  going  to  the  devil  on  a  gallop,  and  it  was 
only  a  question  of  a  year  or  two  when  he  would  die. 
I  loved  that  man  like  a  brother,  but  he  would  get 
mad  the  minute  I  spoke  of  his  drinking,  and  I  quit 
talking  to  him,  though  I  wanted  to  save  him.  I  have 
smoked  dog-leg  tobacco  many  a  night  till  after  mid 
night,  trying  to  study  a  way  to  save  the  only  man  in 
the  world  that  I  ever  actually  loved,  and  I  finally  got 
it  down  fine.  I  began  to  act  as  though  I  was  half 
drunk  whenever  I  saw  my  friend,  spilled  whisky  on 
my  coat  sleeves,  and  acted  disreputable,  and  got  a  few 
good  fellows  to  talk  with  him  about  what  a  con 
founded  wreck  I  was  getting  to  be ;  and  he  actually 
got  to  pitying  me,  and  finally  got  disgusted  with  me ; 
and  one  day  he  said  to  me  that  I  was  a  disgrace,  and 
was  making  more  different  kinds  of  a  fool  of  myself 
than  any  drunkard  he  ever  met.  I  got  mad  at  him, 
and  told  him  to  attend  to  his  own  business  and  left 
him.  Then  the  boys  got  to  telling  him  that  the  only 
way  to  save  me  was  to  get  me  to  go  to  a  cure ;  and, 
do  you  know,  that  good  fellow  that  I  would  have 
given  the  world  to  save,  came  to  me  and  urged  me  to 
take  the  cure ;  and  at  first  I  was  indignant  that  he 
should  interfere  in  my  affairs,  and  finally  he  said  he 
would  go  if  I  would.  Then  we  struck  a  bargain,  and 
went  to  Dwight,  and  took  the  medicine.  The  boys 
had  told  the  doctors  the  story,  and  they  only  gave 
me  one  shot  in  the  arm ;  but  that  came  near  killing 
me,  because  it  almost  broke  me  of  using  tobacco. 
Well,  I  remained  there  ten  days,  and,  while  they  were 


•'Which  is  Jeffries?  "  asked  Uncle  Ike. 
65 


66  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

pretending  to  cure  me,  they  were  curing  my  friend 
sure  enough,  putting  the  gold  cure  into  his  system 
with  injections  and  drinks,  while  I  didn't  get  anything 
but  ginger  ale ;  and  when  we  were  discharged  cured, 
I  was  the  happiest  man  in  the  world,  except  my 
friend,  who  was  happier.  He  was  not  only  cured 
himself,  and  an  honor  to  his  family,  but  he  thought 
he  had  saved  me  from  a  drunkard's  grave.  That's 
the  story,  boys,  and  now  you  get  up  and  shake  hands, 
and  don't  fight  any  more  over  your  Uncle  Ike,"  and 
the  old  man  patted  them  both  on  the  head,  and  they 
shook  hands  and  laughed  at  each  other's  black  eyes. 
As  the  red-headed  boy  showed  his  late  antagonist  to 
the  door,  he  turned  to  his  uncle  and  said : 

"Uncle  Ike,  if  you  have  ever  held  up  a  railroad  train, 
or  robbed  a  bank,  or  stolen  horses,  or  done  anything 
that  would  cause  you  to  be  arrested,  I  beg  of  you  to 
tell  me  of  it  now,  so  if  anybody  abuses  you  in  my 
presence  I  won't  get  into  a  fight  every  time,"  and  the 
boy  put  his  arm  around  his  Uncle  Ike  and  hugged 
him,  and  added,  "You  were  a  thoroughbred  when 
you  bilked  that  friend  of  yours  to  take  the  cure.' 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  "that  reminds 
me  of  the  battle  of  Chickamauga.  When  Bragg's 
forces  were " 

"  Fire !  Fire !"  yelled  the  red-headed  boy,  and  he 
rushed  out  of  doors  and  left  the  old  man  talking  to 
his  pipe. 

"  Has  that  battle  of  Chickamauga  been  fought  out 
to  a  finish  yet  ?"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  as  he  stuck 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  6? 

his  head  in  the  door  after  the  imaginary  fire  alarm 
that  he  had  created  to  escape  Uncle  Ike's  war  history, 
"for  if  it  is  ended  I  want  to  come  in,  but  I  can't 
stand  gore,  and  your  war  stories  are  so  full  of  blood 
that  you  must  have  had  to  swim  in  it." 

'Oh,  you  don't  know  a  hero  when  you  see  one," 
said  the  old  man,  as  he  straightened  up  and  saluted 
the  boy  in  a  military  manner,  only  that  he  used  his 
left  hand  instead  of  his  right  hand. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  the  boy  as  he  got  inside 
the  room  and  stood  with  his  hand  on  the  door  knob, 
ready  to  escape  if  Uncle  Ike  got  excited.  "  You  old 
veterans  make  me  sick.  I  have  heard  nothing  for 
fifteen  years  except  war  talk,  old  war  talk,  back  num 
ber  war  talk,  about  how  you  old  fellows  put  down  the 
rebellion,  and  suffered,  and  fought,  and  all  that  rot. 
Why,  I  heard  a  bugler  who  enlisted  for  the  Spanish 
war,  and  who  only  got  as  far  as  Jacksonville,  say  that 
you  fellows  that  put  down  the  rebellion  in  1864  were 
just  a  mob,  and  that  you  didn't  have  any  fighting,  and 
that  the  Southern  people  were  only  fooling  you,  and 
that  you  didn't  suffer  like  the  Spanish  war  heroes  did, 
and  that  you  just  had  a  picnic  from  start  to  finish. 
The  bugler  said  he  wouldn't  ask  any  better  fun  than 
to  fight  the  way  you  fellows  did,  when  you  had  all  you 
wanted  to  eat,  good  beds  to  sleep  on,  and  servants  to 
carry  your  guns,  and  cook  for  you.  The  bugler  said 
you  fellows  all  get  pensions  just  for  making  an  excur 
sion  through  the  Southern  resorts,  while  the  heroes  of 
the  Spanish  war,  who  fought  a  foreign  country  to  a 


68  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

standstill,  and  went  without  food,  and  got  malaria,  are 
without  pensions,  and  just  existing  on  the  record  they 
made  fighting  for  their  country —  "  and  the  boy 
stopped  nagging  the  old  man  when  he  noticed  that 
Uncle  Ike  was  turning  blue  in  the  face,  and  choking 
to  keep  down  his  wrath. 

"  Where  is  this  heroic  bugler  of  the  Spanish  war?" 
said  Uncle  Ike,  trying  to  be  calm,  but  actually  froth 
ing  at  the  mouth.  "  Bring  him  here,  and  let  me  hear 
him  say  these  things,  condemn  him,  and  I  will  take 
him  across  my  knee  and  I  will  knock  the  wind  out  of 
him,  so  that  he  can  never  gather  enough  in  his  car 
cass  to  blow  another  bugle.  Why,  confound  him,  he 
is  a  liar.  The  war  of  the  rebellion  was  a  war,  not  a 
country  schuetzenfest,  with  a  chance  to  go  home 
every  night  and  sleep  in  a  feather  bed,  and  get  a 
Turkish  bath.  The  whole  Spanish  war,  except  what 
the  navy  did,  was  not  equal  to  an  outpost  skirmish  in 
'63.  Of  course,  the  rough  riders  and  the  weary 
walkers  did  a  nice  job  going  up  San  Juan  hill,  but  we 
had  a  thousand  such  fights  in  the  rebellion.  After 
that  skirmish  there  was  nothing  done  by  the  army  at 
Santiago,  but  to  sit  down  in  the  mud  and  wait  for 
the  Spaniards  to  eat  their  last  cracker,  and  kill  their 
last  dog  and  eat  it,  and  then  surrender.  Ask  that 
bugler  to  tell  you  where  he  found,  in  his  glorious 
career  as  a  wind  instrument  in  the  Spanish  war,  any 
Grants,  Shermans,  Sheridans,  Logans,  Pap  Thomases, 
McClellans,  Kilpatricks,  Custers,  McPhersons,  Braggs, 
and  hundreds  of  such  heroes.  WNftt  has  the  bugler 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  69 

got  to  show  for  his  war?  Shafter!  And  Alger! 
And  all  of  them  quarreling  over  the  little  bone  of 
victory  that  was  not  big  enough  for  a  meal  for  our 
old  generals  of  the  war  of  the  rebellion.  And  he 
talks  about  our  pensions,  the  young  kid.  He.  proba 
bly  wears  corsets.  Why,  we  didn't  get  pensions  until 
we  got  so  old  we  couldn't  get  up  alone.  His  gang  of 
Jacksonville  heroes  will  probably  get  pensions  when 
they  are  old  enough.  Bring  that  bugler  in  here  some 
day,  and  don't  let  him  know  what  he  is  going  to  run 
up  against,  and  I  will  give  you  a  dollar,  and  I  will  let 
you  see  me  dust  the  carpet  with  him,"  and  the  old 
man  sat  down  and  fanned  himself,  while  the  boy 
looked  scared  for  fear  Uncle  Ike  was  going  to  have  a 
fit.  "  Why,  at  the  battle  of  Pea  Ridge,  when  a  min- 

ie  ball  struck  me,  when  I  was  on  the  firing  line " 

"Keno,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  as  he  went 
through  the  window  head  first,  and  over  the  picket 
fence  on  his  stomach,  and  disappeared  down  the 
street. 


70  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  Say,  Uncle  Ike,  don't  you  think  the  Fourth  of 
July  is  sort  of  played  out  ? "  asked  the  red-headed  boy, 
as  he  came  to  Uncle  Ike's  room  on  the  morning  of 
the  5th,  by  appointment,  to  demonstrate  to  the  old 
man  that  he  had  not  been  quite  killed  by  the  celebra 
tion  of  the  great  day.  "  It  seems  to  me  we  don't 
have  half  as  many  accidents  and  fires  as  we  used  to," 
and  the  boy  counted  off  Jo  the  uncle  the  dozen  inju 
ries  he  had  received  by  burns,  and  dug  into  his  eye 
with  a  soiled  handkerchief  in  search  of  some  gravel 
from  a  torpedo. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  lighted 
the  old  pipe  and  began  to  look  over  the  boy's  injuries. 
"  The  Fourth  is  carrying  on  business  at  the  old  stand, 
apparently.  Your  injuries  are  in  the  right  places,  on 
the  left  hand,  principally,  and  the  gravel  is  in  the  left 
eye.  That  is  right.  Always  keep  the  right  hand  and 
the  right  eye  in  good  shape,  so  you  can  sight  a  gun 
and  pull  a  trigger,  either  in  shooting  ducks  or  Filipi 
nos.  You  see,  our  country  is  growing,  and  we  are 
celebrating  the  Fourth  from  Alaska  to  Porto  Rico, 
and  from  London  to  Luzon,  so  we  can't  celebrate  so 
very  much  in  any  one  place.  I  expect  by  another 
Fourth  Queen  Victoria  will  be  yelling  for  the  glorious 
Fourth,  Emperor  William  will  be  touching  off  dyna 
mite  firecrackers,  Russia  will  be  eating  Roman  can- 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  71 

dies,  and  Aguinaldo  will  be  touching  off  nigger-chasers 
and  drinking  red  lemonade.  This  is  a  great  country, 
boy,  and  don't  you  forget  it." 

"Well,  you  may  be  right,"  said  the  boy,  as  he 
poured  some  witch-hazel  on  a  rag  around  his  thumb, 
"  but  it  looks  to  me  as  though  the  troops  in  the  Phil 
ippines  will  be  climbing  aboard  transports  protected 
by  the  fleet,  with  Aguinaldo  slaughtering  the  boys  in 
the  hospitals  and  looting  Manila,  if  the  President  does 
not  get  a  move  onto  himself  and  send  another  army 
out  there  to  be  victorious  some  more.  The  way  it  is 
now,  we  shall  not  have  troops  enough  there  to  bury 
the  dead.  The  boys  have  been  debating  at  school  the 
Philippine  question,  and  it  was  decided  unanimously 
that  the  President  is  up  against  a  tough  proposition, 
and  if  he  does  not  stop  looking  at  the  political  side  of 
that  war  and  send  troops  enough  to  eat  up  those  shirt 
less  soldiers,  who  can  live  on  six  grains  of  rice  and  two 
grains  of  quinine  a  day,  we  are  going  to  be  whipped 
out  of  our  boots.  That's  what  us  boys  think." 

"  Well,  you  boys  don't  want  to  think  too  much,  or 
you  are  liable  to  have  brain  fever,"  said  the  old  man, 
as  he  realized  that  there  was  mutiny  brewing  among 
the  school  children.  "What  you  fellows  want  the 
President  to  do  ?  Haven't  we  whipped  the  negroes 
everywhere,  and  taken  village  after  village,  and  burned 
them,  and — and — chased  them — and " 

"  Sure  ! "  said  the  boy,  as  he  saw  that  his  uncle  was 
at  a  loss  to  defend  the  policy  of  his  government. 
"We  have  had  regular  foot  races  with  them,  and 


72  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

burned  the  huts  of  the  helpless,  and  taken  villages, 
and  then  didn't  have  troops  to  hold  them,  and  when 
we  went  out  of  a  village  on  one  street,  the  niggers 
came  in  on  another,  and  shot  into  our  pants.  We 
swim  rivers  and  take  towns  with  as  brave  work  as  ever 
was  done,  and  become  so  exhausted  we  have  to  lay 
down  in  the  mud  and  have  a  fit,  and  the  niggers 
climb  trees  like  monkeys,  eat  cocoanuts  and  chatter 
at  us.  Say,  Uncle  Ike,  do  you  know  us  boys  are  get 
ting  tired  of  this  business,  and  we  are  getting  up  a 
petition  to  the  President  to  get  a  trained  nurse  to  put 
Alger  to  sleep  and  run*  the  war  department  herself. 
We  are  going  to  have  the  petition  signed  by  seven 
million  American  boys.  Why,  if  those  niggers  could 
go  off  in  the  woods  and  shoot  at  a  mark  for  a  week, 
and  get  so  they  could  hit  anything,  our  boys  would  all 
be  dead  in  a  month.  The  trouble  is  the  niggers  just 
pull  up  a  gun  and  touch  it  off  like  a  girl  does  a  fire 
cracker.  She  lights  the  tip  end  of  the  tail  of  a  fire 
cracker,  and  throws  it,  and  you  forget  all  about  it,  and 
when  her  firecracker  has  ceased  to  interest  you,  and 
you  don't  know  where  it  is,  it  goes  off  in  your  coat 
collar,  or  down  the  waistband  of  your  pants.  A  Fili 
pino  shoots  the  way  a  trained  monkey  touches  off  a 
syphon  of  seltzer  water.  He  knows  it  will  squirt  if 
he  touches  the  thumbpiece,  but  it  is  as  liable  to  hit 
him  in  the  face,  or  wet  his  feet  as  anything.  Some 
day  those  niggers  will  learn  how  to  shoot,  and  when 
Funston  attempts  to  swim  a  river  he  will  get  a  bullet 
through  the  head,  and  Lawton  and  MacArthur,  who 


"We  are  going  to  have  the  petition  signed  by  seven  million 
American  boys." 

73 


74  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

stand  up  in  plain  sight  and  let  them  practice  will  wish 
they  hadn't.  We  boys  have  decided  to  support  the 
President  until  he  conquers  those  people,  if  that  is 
what  he  is  trying  to  do,  but,  by  gosh,  if  he  does  not 
wake  up  and  quit  looking  pleasant,  and  seeming  to 
hope  that  Filipino  shower  is  going  to  blow  over,  we 
feel  that  he  will  wake  up  some  morning  and  find  that 
a  nigger  tornado  has  struck  his  brave  boys  at  Manila, 
and  they  will  be  in  the  cyclone  cellars  waiting  for 
somebody  to  come  and  dig  them  out.  Don't  you 
think  so,  Uncle  Ike  ?  " 

"  I  say,  boy,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  lighted  up  the 
pipe,  after  letting  it  go  out  while  listening  to  the  war 
talk  of  the  excited  boy,  "  do  you  think  you  could  ar 
range  your  affairs  so  as  to  leave  here  by  tomorrow 
evening  and  take  the  limited  for  Washington  ?  Would 
you  accept  the  vacancy  in  the  office  of  secretary  of 
war  ?  I  know  this  offer  comes  sudden  to  you,  and  that 
you  will  have  no  time  to  consult  your  debating  society 
as  to  whether  you  ought  to  accept  the  position,  but 
when  you  reflect  that  the  country  is  in  a  critical  situ 
ation,  and  needs  a  man  of  blood  and  iron  to  steer  the 
craft  through  among  the  rocks,  I  feel  that  you  cannot 
refuse.  The  ideas  you  express  are  so  near  like  those 
that  General  Jackson  would  express  if  he  were  alive, 
that  I  feel  the  country  would  be  blessed  if  you  were 
in  a  position  to  brace  up  the  President.  Now  go  wash 
your  face,  and  I  will  wire  the  President  that  you  will 
be  there  day  after  tomorrow  morning.  But  if  you  go 
there  thinking,  as  many  people  seem  to  think,  that  the 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  75 

President's  backbone  is  made  of  banana  pulp,  and  that 
he  is  not  alive  to  the  situation,  you  will  make  a  mis 
take.  There  are  chumps  like  you  all  over  this  country 
that  wonder  why  they  have  not  been  selected  to  run 
this  country,  who  think  the  commander-in-chief  is  run 
ning  ward  politics  instead  of  the  affairs  of  the  country. 
Of  course,  a  President  gets  under  obligations  to  differ 
ent  elements  in  a  campaign,  and  finds  it  necessary  to 
surround  himself  with  a  cabinet,  a  few  members  of 
which  are  not  worth  powder  to  blow  them  up,  but  if 
they  were  all  weak  and  vicious  on  the  make,  and 
political  ciphers,  and  the  President  himself  is  all  right, 
the  country  will  not  go  very  far  wrong.  What  you 
boys  want  to  do  is  to  debate  less  on  questions  you  do 
not  understand,  and  saw  more  wood.  Let  the  grown 
people  run  things  a  while  longer,  and  you  boys  prepare 
to  take  the  burden  a  quarter  of  a  century  hence,"  and 
the  old  man  got  up  and  put  his  arm  around  the  boy 
and  felt  of  his  head  to  see  if  he  could  find  any  soft 
spot. 

"Well,  I  was  only  joshin'  any  way,  Uncle  Ike,"  said 
the  boy,  as  he  put  both  arms  around  the  old  man, 
and  felt  in  his  uncle's  pistol  pocket  to  discover  some 
thing  that  was  eatable.  "  But,  Uncle  Ike,  I  am  seri 
ous  now.  J  have  got  in  love  with  a  girl,  and  she  is 
mashed  on  another  boy,  and  I  am  having  more  trou 
ble  than  McKinley.  You  know  that  quarter  you 
gave  me  yesterday?  I  saved  20  cents  of  it  to  treat 
her  to  ice-cream  soda ;  and  when  I  went  to  find  her, 
she  was  coming  out  of  the  drug  store  with  the  other 


76  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

boy,  and  I  found  out  they  had  been  sitting  on  stools 
at  the  soda  fountain  all  the  forenoon,  drinking  all  the 
different  kinds  of  soda,  until  he  had  to  hold  her 
down  for  fear  she  would  go  up  like  a  balloon,  from 
the  soda  bubbles  that  she  had  concealed  about  her 
person.  I  have  not  decided  whether  to  kill  my  rival, 
or  go  and  enlist  and  go  to  the  Philippines  and  break 
her  heart.  What  did  you  do  under  such  circum 
stances,  Uncle,  when  you  used  to  get  in  love  ? " 

"I  used  to  take  castor  oil,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he 
looked  at  the  forlorn-looking  boy,  "but  you  don't 
need  to.  Just  you  take  off  those  tan  shoes  and  put 
on  black  shoes,  and  change  your  luck.  I  never  knew 
it  to  fail,  when  a  boy  first  put  on  tan  shoes  and  a 
high  collar.  He  is  bound  to  get  in  love  before  night. 
Take  off  those  shoes,  and  you  can  go  out  in  the  world 
and  look  everybody  in  the  face  and  never  get  in  love. 
It  is  the  same  as  being  vaccinated,"  and  the  old  man 
looked  sober  and  serious,  and  the  boy  went  to  work 
to  change  his  shoes,  with  a  bright  hope  for  the  future 
lighting  up  his  face. 


tnd  the  Red-headed  Boy  77 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  Go  away  from  me !  Don't  you  come  any  nearer 
or  I  will  smite  you !"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  the  red 
headed  boy  came  into  the  room  with  his  red  hair  cut 
short  with  the  clippers,  a  green  neglige  shirt,  with  a 
red  necktie,  a  white  collar,  a  tan  belt  with  a  nickel 
buckle,  and  short  trousers  with  golf  socks  of  a  plaid 
pattern  that  were  so  loud  they  would  turn  out  a  fire 
department.  "  I  am  afraid  of  you.  Who  in  the 
world  got  you  to  have  your  red  hair  shingled  so  it 
looks  like  red  sand-paper  ?  And  who  is  your  tailor  ? 
Have  I  got  to  go  down  to  my  grave  with  the  thought 
that  a  nephew  of  mine  would  appear  in  daylight  look 
ing  like  that  ?  Get  me  a  piece  of  smoked  glass,  or  I 
shall  have  cataracts  on  both  eyes,"  and  the  old  man 
knocked  the  ashes  and  deceased  tobacco  out  of  his 
pipe  on  his  boot  heel,  and  dug  the  stuff  out  of  the 
bottom  of  the  pipe  with  a  jack-knife. 

"  Well,  I  had  to  have  my  hair  cut,  because  the  boys 
at  the  picnic  filled  my  hair  with  burdock  burrs,  and  it 
couldn't  be  combed  out,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  took  a 
match  and  scratched  it  on  top  of  his  head,  and  lit  it, 
while  the  uncle  sniffed  at  the  burned  hair.  "Aunt 
Almira  cut  my  hair  first  with  a  pair  of  dull  shears,  to 
get  the  burrs  out,  and  then  a  barber  cut  off  all  there 
was  left,  with  these  horse-clippers,  and  I  feel  Jike  a 
dog  that  has  had  his  hindquarters  clipped  to  make  a 


Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

lion  of  him.  Aunt  Almira  says  I  have  got  a  great 
nead.  Say,  Uncle  Ike,  did  you  ever  examine-  the 
bumps  on  my  head  ?  I  was  at  a  phrenology  lecture 
once,  and  the  feeler  could  tell  all  that  was  going  on 
in  a  man's  head  just  by  the  bumps.  Feel  of  mine, 
Uncle,  and  tell  my  fortune,"  and  the  red-headed  boy 
came  up  to  the  old  man  for  examination. 

"I  am  no  phrenologist,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he 
smoked  up  and  got  the  boy  to  coughing,  "  but  there 
are  some  bumps  I  know  the  names  of,"  and  he  felt  all 
around  the  boy's  head,  and  looked  wise.  "  This  place 
where  there  is  a  dent  in  your  head  is  where  the  bump 
of  veneration  will  grow,  later,  if  you  get  in  the  habit 
of  letting  old  people  have  a  show,  and  get  up  and  offer 
them  your  chair,  and  run  errands  for  them  without  ex 
pecting  them  to  pay  you.  This  place  on  the  back  of 
your  head,  where  there  is  a  bump  as  big  as  a  hickory 
nut,  is  what  we  call  the  hat  rack  bump,  because  you 
can  hang  your  hat  on  it.  The  barber  ought  to  have 
cut  a  couple  of  slices  off  that  bump  with  his  lawn 
mower.  Here  is  a  bump  that  shows  that  you  are  color 
blind.  Be  careful,  or  you  will  marry  a  negro  girl  by 
mistake.  As  a  precaution,  when  you  begin  to  get  in 
love  serious,  bring  the  girl  to  me  that  I  may  see  if  she 
is  white.  Here  is  a  soft  bump  that  indicates  that  you 
will  steal " 

"  Oh,  come  off,"  said  the  boy,  laughing,  and  remov 
ing  his  head  from  the  investigation.  "  That  is  where 
I  was  struck  by  a  golf  ball.  You  are  no  phrenologist. 
I  know  what  you  are,  Uncle  Ike;  you  are  a  fakir. 


1  Here  is  a  soft  bump  that  indicates  that  you  will  steal- 
79 


&>  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

But,  say,  I  was  sick  last  night,  after  we  had  that  green 
watermelon  for  dinner,  and  Aunt  Almira  said  I  was 
troubled  with  sewer  gas,  and  she  gave  me  the  pepper 
mint  test.  Do  you  think  peppermint  will  detect  sewer 
gas,  Uncle  Ike  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  you  want,  boy,  you  want  to  get  me 
mad,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  threw  his  pipe  into  the 
grate  because  it  wouldn't  draw,  and  took  a  new  one 
and  filled  it.  "  There  is  no  greater  fraud  on  the  earth 
than  this  peppermint  test  for  sewer  gas.  I  had  a  house 
to  rent,  years  ago,  and  was  ruined  by  peppermint. 
When  a  tenant  had  anything  the  matter,  from  grip  to 
corns,  the  doctor  would  look  wise,  snuff  around,  and 
say  he  detected  sewer  gas,  and  they  would  call  in  a 
health  officer  and  he  would  put  a  little  peppermint  oil 
in  somewhere,  and  go  into  another  room,  and  when  he 
smell ed  the  peppermint  he  would  say  it  was  sewer 
gas,  and  send  for  a  plumber,  and  they  would  begin 
to  plumb,  and  I  had  to  pay.  I  had  nine  tenants  in 
two  years,  and  every  disease  they  had  was  laid 
to  sewer  gas,  and  I  had  to  ease  up  on  the  rent  or 
stand  a  lawsuit.  When  one  family  had  triplets, 
and  tried  to  stand  me  off  on  the  rent  on  account 
of  sewer  gas,  I  became  a  walking  delegate,  and  struck, 
and  turned  the  house  into  a  livery  stable,  and  now,  do 
you  know,  every  time  I  go  to  collect  rent  I  am  afraid 
a  horse  has  got  sick,  and  the  livery  man  will  lay  it  to 
sewer  gas.  Why,  boy,  peppermint  oil  will  go  through 
an  asphalt  pavement.  You  might  put  peppermint  oil 
'on  top  of  the  Egyptian  pyramids  and  you  could  smeJl 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  ?\ 

it  in  fifteen  minutes  in  Cairo.  If  anybody  ever  talks 
to  you  about  sewer  gas  and  peppermint  test,  call  them 
a  liar  and  charge  it  to  me,"  and  the  old  man  was  so 
mad  the  boy's  hair  began  to  curl. 

"Here,  Uncle  Ike,  what  you  staring  out  of  the 
window  so  for,  with  your  eyes  sot,  like  a  dying  horse, 
and  your  body  as  rigid  as  a  statue?"  and  the  boy 
rushed  up  to  the  window  and  looked  out  to  see  what 
had  come  over  the  old  man. 

"  Hush,  keep  still,  and  don't  scare  her  away,"  said 
Uncle  Ike,  as  he  held  up  his  hand  and  motioned  the 
boy  to  keep  still. 

"  By  gosh,  if  it  isn't  a  woman,  Uncle  Ike,  that  has 
paralyzed  you,  and  you  always  said  you  didn't  care 
for  them  any  more,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  as  he 
looked  out  the  window  and  saw  a  blonde-haired  young 
woman  standing  on  the  corner  waiting  for  a  street 
car,  and  glancing  up  at  Uncle  Ike  through  the  frowsy 
hair  that  was  loosely  flying  about  her  forehead.  "  And 
she  is  a  blonde,  too,  and  blondes  have  gone  out  of 
style.  Didn't  you  read  in  the  papers  that  the  shows 
won't  hire  blondes  any  more,  and  that  nothing  but 
brunettes  are  in  it  ?  It  must  be  pretty  tough  on  a 
blonde  to  get  her  hair  all  fixed  fluffy,  after  years  of 
patient  coloring,  and  then  find  she  has  gone  out  of 
style,  and  no  op'ry  will  hire  her  to  shed  blonde  hair  on 
the  coats  of  the  chorus  fellows.  Oh,  Uncle  Ike, 
come  away  from  the  window  or  you  will  be  stolen," 
and  the  boy  dragged  the  old  man  away  from  the  win- 


Sa  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

dow,  handed  him  his  pipe,  and  said,  "  Smoke  up  and 
try  to  forget  it." 

"  Forget  nothing,"  said  the  old  man,  as  he  lit  the 
torch  and  a  smile  came  over  his  good-natured  face. 
"Don't  you  worry  about  blonde  girls  going  out  of 
style.  These  bleached  ones,  who  never  were  the  real 
thing,  may  go  back  to  their  natural,  beautiful  brunetti- 
cism,  and  when  they  realize  how  foolish  they  have 
been,  trying  to  bunko  nature,  they  will  be  happier  than 
ever,  but  the  natural  blonde  will  never  go  out  of  style. 
She  is  a  joy  forever.  Do  you  know,  when  a  man  gets 
in  love  with  a  girl  he  couldn't  tell  what  the  color  oi 
her  hair  was,  to  save  him  ?  He  knows  all  about  her 
eyes,  and  her  hands,  and  her  face,  but  unless  he  finds 
a  hair  on  his  coat  he  can't  tell  what  is  the  color  of  the 
hair  of  his  beloved.  Love  is  like  smoking.  You  may 
smoke  in  the  dark,  and  if  your  pipe  goes  out  you 
smoke  right  along  and  don't  know  the  difference. 
You  sit  up  with  a  girl  in  the  dark  and  you  can't  see 
her,  and  she  may  go  to  sleep,  but  love  keeps  smoking 
right  along  and  never  seems  to  go  out.  When  I  was 
wounded  at  the  battle  of  Pea  Ridge,  and  was  taken  to 
a  young  ladies'  seminary  to  be  doctored  and  nursed 
back  to  life " 

"  Oh,  do  quit,  Uncle  Ike  !  If  you  had  been  taken 
wounded  to  a  young  ladies'  seminary,  say  in  1863, 
thirty-six  years  ago,  you  would  have  been  there  yet, 
and  your  wound  would  still  be  paining  you,  and  the 
girls  who  saved  your  life  would  be  grown  up  to  be 
gray-haired  old  women,"  and  the  boy  jollied  the  old 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  83 

man  until  he  blushed.  "You  must  have  known  a 
man  named  Ananias  in  the  army.  Say,  Uncle  Ike, 
you  know  you  wanted  me  to  learn  a  trade,  and  I  have 
decided  that  I  would  like  to  learn  the  trade  of  a 
bishop.  I  read  of  the  death  of  a  bishop  the  other 
day  who  was  worth  half  a  million  dollars,  and  now 
.you  must  tell  me  how  to  become  a  bishop,  like  New 
man,"  and  the  boy  laughed  as  though  he  had  got  the 
old  man  in  a  tight  place. 

"  Well,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  after  stopping  to  think  a 
moment,  "  you  might  do  worse.  Do  you  know,  boy, 
that  Bishop  Newman,  who  died  recently,  did  learn  a 
trade  ?  Well,  he  did.  When  he  was  a  boy,  he  seemed 
to  be  a  no-account  sort  of  a  duck,  some  like  you.  His 
parents  were  poor,  and  lived  in  the  slums  of  New 
York.  His  hair  was  some  the  color  of  yours,  and  he 
loafed  around,  and  made  fun  of  his  old  uncle,  no 
doubt,  the  same  as  you  do.  He  had  to  do  something 
to  help  earn  the  bread  and  beer  for  the  family,  and 
so  he  went  to  work  stripping  tobacco  in  a  factory 
near  his  home.  Somehow  he  got  vaccinated  with  a 
desire  to  learn  something,  and  after  he  had  stripped 
tobacco,  and  snuffed  it,  and  got  some  sense  in  his 
head,  he  began  to  learn  to  read.  A  girl  stripper 
taught  him  first  to  read  the  labels  on  packages  of  to 
bacco,  and  taught  him  to  spell.  Then  he  got  a  taste 
for  education,  and  became  the  smarty  of  the  factory, 
and  the  boys  who  could  not  read  called  him  '  snuff,' 
because  his  hair  and  freckles  were  the  color  of  Scotch 
snuff.  Some  white  man  connected  with  the  factory 


84  Peck's  Ur-rle  Ike 

saw  that  the  little  rat  had  stuff  in  him,  and  he  helped 
him  to  get  an  education,  and  he  stripped  tobacco  day 
times  and  studied  nights,  and  became  a  preacher,  and 
finally  a  bishop.  So,  you  smarty,  if  you  want  to  learn 
the  trade  of  a  bishop,  strip  the  wrapper  off  that  pack 
age  of  tobacco  and  fill  my  pipe.  Who  knows  but 
Bishop  Newman  stripped  the  very  tobacco  I  am  smok 
ing  now  ? "  and  the  old  man  puffed  and  laughed  at 
the  boy. 

"  Gosh  !  it  smells  old  enough  to  have  been  stripped 
when  the  bishop  was  a  boy,"  said  the  red-headed  boy, 
and  then  he  dodged  behind  a  table,  while  Uncle  Ike 
tried  to  catch  him  and  "teach  him  how  to  be  a.  bishop. 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  85 


CHAPTER  X. 

Uncle  Ike  stood  with  his  pipe  in  his  left  hand,  his 
thumb  pressing  the  tobacco  down  tight,  and  with  a 
match  in  his  right  hand,  just  ready  to  scratch  it  on 
his  leg,  when  he  froze  stiff  in  that  position,  and  never 
moved  for  five  minutes,  as  he  watched  the  red-headed 
boy,  who  had  walked  into  the  room  listlessly,  his  eyes 
staring  at  a  picture  he  held  in  his  hand,  his  face  so 
pale  that  the  freckles  looked  large  and  dark,  his  lips 
white  as  chalk,  his  cheeks  sunken,  his  fingers  gripping 
the  picture,  a  faded  and  forlorn  pansy  in  his  button 
hole,  and  his  short  clipped  hair  standing  up  straight 
in  rows  like  red  beet  tops  in  a  vegetable  garden. 

"Anybody  very  dead?"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  drew 
the  match  across  the  cloth,  put  it  to  his  pipe,  and  be 
gan  to  swell  out  his  cheeks  and  puff,  keeping  his  eye 
on  the  boy,  through  the  smoke,  who  had  taken  his 
eyes  from  the  picture,  drawn  a  deep  sigh,  and  sat 
down  on  the  lounge,  as  though  he  never  expected  to 
get  up  again. 

"No,  nobody  dead,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  laid  his 
head  on  a  sofa  pillow,  closed  his  eyes,  and  placed  the 
picture  inside  his  vest.  "  But  I  wish  there  was.  I 
wish  I  was  dead." 

"  How  many  times  have  I  told  you  to  put  oil  on 
cucumbers,  and  they  wouldn't  gripe  you  that  way  ?" 
said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  drew  a  chair  up  beside  the 


86  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

lounge  and  felt  of  the  boy's  pulse,  and  took  his  hand 
kerchief  and  wiped  the  perspiration  off  his  forehead, 
and  finally  took  the  picture  out  of  his  bosom  and 
looked  at  it.  "  She  is  a  nice,  warm-looking  girl,  but 
you  might  have  the  picture  on  your  stomach  a  week, 
and  it  wouldn't  draw  that  colic  out  of  you,"  and  Uncle 
Ike  gazed  with  some  admiration  on  the  picture  of  the 
beautiful  girl,  whose  high  forehead,  bright  eyes,  and 
beautiful  chin,  showed  that  she  had  the  making  of  a 
rare  and  radiant  woman. 

"  'Tain't  colic,  and  It  haven't  et  no  cucumbers," 
said  the  boy,  as  he  rolled  his  eyes  up  toward  the 
roof  of  his  head.  "  It's  love,  that's  what  it  is,  and  I 
am  miserable,  and  Aunt  Almira  said  you.  had  been  in 
love  over  six  hundred  times,  and  could  tell  me  what 
to  do." 

"Well,  I  like  your  Aunt  Almira's  nerve,"  said 
Uncle  Ike,  as  he  looked  half  pleased  at  the  accusation. 
"Of  course,  I  have  had  some  encounters  with  the 
fair  sex,  but  I  have  never  entirely  collapsed,  the  way 
you  have.  What's  the  symptoms?  Don't  the  girl 
love  you  ?" 

"Yes!  Gosh,  she  idolizes  me,"  said  the  boy,  sit 
ting  up,  and  getting  a  little  color  in  his  face. 

"  Oh,  then  you  don't  love  her,"  said  Uncle  Ike, 
probing  into  the  wound. 

"  It's  false,"  said  the  boy,  getting  on  his  feet  and 
standing  before  the  old  man  in  indignation.  "  I 
love  the  very  ground  she  walks  on.  Say,  when  I 
walk  a  few  blocks  with  her,  and  can't  see  her  again 


"She  is  a  nice  warm-looking  girl." 


88  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

for  a  week,  I  go  around  the  other  six  days  and  look 
at  the- boards  she  walked  on,  and  it  makes  me  mad  to 
see  anybody  else  walking  where  she  did.  I  want  to 
get  rich  enough  to  buy  all  the  houses  we  have  walked 
by,  and  the  street  cars  we  have  rode  in.  Love  her  ? 
Say,  you  don't  know  anything  about  love,  Uncle  Ike. 
The  love  you  used  to  have  was  old  style,  and  didn't 
strike  in." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  "  its  all  about 
the  same.  Was  the  same  in  Bible  times,  and  will  be 
the  same  hundreds  of  years  hence,  when  we  conquer 
the  Philippines.  Same*  old  thing.  Nobody  invents 
any  new  symptoms  in  the  love  industry.  There  may 
be  new  languages  to  express  it  in,  but  it  is  just  plain, 
every-day  love.  But  if  you  both  love  each  other,  what 
is  the  use  of  all  this  colic  ? " 

"  Why,  you  see,  she  has  to  dissemble.  That's  what 
she  says.  She  can't  go  with  me  all  the  time,  and 
when  I  see  her  with  anybody  else  it  seems  as  though 
it  would  kill  me.  I  know  she  does  not  smile  at  any 
body  else  the  way  she  does  at  me,  but  the  condum 
fools  might  think  she  did,  and  love  her.  I  know  if 
one  of  those  ducks  should  squeeze  her  hand,  she 
would  be  mad,  and  cuff  him,  but  I  could  squeeze  her 
hand  till  her  fingers  cracked,  and  she  would  enjoy  it." 

"  I  see,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  smoking  right  along. 
"  You  are  like  a  man  who  owns  the  most  beautiful 
diamond  in  the  world,  and  is  not  allowed  for  some 
reason  to  be  known  as  its  owner,  but  is  allowed  to 
wear  it  only  two  hours  a  week,  and  then  other  people 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  89 

are  allowed  to  wear  it.  You  know  it  is  yours,  and  yet 
when  it  is  in  the  possession  of  others,  you  don't  dare 
go  and  claim  it,  and  they  wear  it  as  though  they  own 
it,  and  people  see  it  in  their  possession  and  admire  it, 
as  it  sparkles  and  throws  rays  of  sunshine,  and  think 
how  lucky  is  the  man  who  wears  it.  Isn't  that  about 
your  idea  ?  She  is  yours,  body  and  soul,  but  has  not 
been  delivered  to  you,  eh  ?  " 

"Sure!  That's  it,  exactly.  What  shall  I  do, 
Uncle  Ike  ?" 

"Shut  up!"  said  the  old  man;  "that  is  what  you 
want  to  do.  Brace  up ;  you  have  no  cause  to  worry. 
I  can  tell  by  that  face  of  hers.  When  she  is  going 
with  other  boys,  as  she  must,  she  is  thinking  of  you 
all  the  time,  and  wishing  your  red  head  was  in  place 
of  that  of  the  kid  who  is  buying  ice-cream  soda  for 
her.  When  she  walks  about  the  streets  she  is  think 
ing  of  when  you  were  with  her  at  the  same,  place. 
And  when  you  are  permitted  to  pass  an  hour  with  her 
she  will  convince  you  in  a  minute  that  you  are  all  the 
world  to  her,  and  that  the  other  ducks  are  not  in  it. 
I  can  tell  by  her  eyes,  boy,  and  her  mouth,  and  her 
whole  face,  that  she  is  a  thoroughbred." 

"  Well,  I  swan,  Uncle  Ike,  you  are  better  than  a 
doctor,"  and  the  red-headed  boy  began  to  hug  the  old 
man,  and  dance  around,  and  kick  high,  and  he  took 
the  picture  and  looked  at  it,  and  said:  "  Nobody  but  a 
chump  would  doubt  that  girl,"  and  the  boy  suddenly 
became  himself  again,  reassured  as  to  the  position  he 
held  in  the  mind  of  his  girl,  by  a  few  words  of  kindly 


po  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

advice  at  the  right  time,  when  the  boy  was  on  the 
verge  of  suicide.  He  laughed  and  pinched  himself 
to  be  sure  he  was  awake,  and  then  took  on  a  serious 
look  and  said :  "  Uncle  Ike,  do  you  think  it  will  take 
two  hundred  years,  honestly,  to  subjugate  the  Filipi 
nos,  and  tame  them,  so  that  they  will  eat  out  of 
our  hands  ?" 

"Well,  we  ought  to  do  it  in  half  the  time  the 
Spaniards  have  been  trying  and  failed,"  said  the  old 
man,  as  he  slapped  a  mosquito  that  was  eating  him. 
"There,  you  see  that  mosquito  is  dead.  No  doubt 
about  that,  is  there  ?  Bat  what  effect  does  the  death 
of  that  mosquito  have  on  the  nine  or  ten  million  of 
his  race  that  are  out  here  in  the  woods  ?  This  one 
simply  got  through  the  screen,  and  bucked  up  against 
a  sure  thing,  and  his  bravery,  or  gall,  got  him  killed, 
and  I  may  think  I  am  a  hero  because  I  killed  him. 
But  let  me  take  my  gun  and  go  out  in  the  woods,  or 
on  the  marsh,  where  there  are  a  million  mosquitos  to 
one  of  me,  and  what  kind  of  a  life  will  they  let  me 
lead  ?  I  should  have  to  be  slapping  and  kicking  all 
the  time,  and  couldn't  attend  to  my  shooting.  It  is 
just  so  with  those  Filipinos.  They  will  stay  in  the  jun 
gles  and  breed,  and  enjoy  the  malaria  and  the  rainy 
season,  and  a  few  will  go  around  the  camps  and  sing 
their  songs,  and  keep  the  soldiers  awake,  and  bite  and 
poison  them,  and  shoot  and  stab,  and  when  the  sol 
diers  chase  them  they  will  go  farther  into  the  jungle, 
harass  the  flanks  of  the  boys  that  are  discouraged, 
and  when  another  year  is  gone  there  will  be  more 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  0,1 

Filipinos  than  there  are  now,  better  armed,  and  hat 
ing  the  Americans  worse  than  ever.  We  may  take 
towns,  hold  them  if  we  have  troops  enough,  and  start 
a  new  graveyard  at  every  place  we  try  to  hold,  and 
when  we  give  it  up  and  go  away,  the  human  mosqui- 
tos  will  return  buzzing  and  biting,  and  they  will  dig 
up  the  remains  of  some  mother's  boy,  just  to  get  the 
gold  filling  out  of  his  teeth.  If  the  war  keeps  on  a 
few  hundred  years,  instead  of  one  large  cemetery  at 
Manila,  that  can  be  watched  and  kept  a  sacred  spot, 
we  shall  have  hundreds  of  small  graveyards  all  over 
the  archipelago,  where  the  boys  in  blue  that  are 
buried  will  find  it  mighty  lonesome  when  we  take  the 
living  soldiers  away.  No,  boy,  it  will  not  take  two 
hundred  years  to  subdue  the  Filipinos.  That  is,  we 
will  not  be  working  at  the  job  that  long,  because  we 
are  not  built  that  way.  If  we  find  we  have  got  into 
a  hornet's  nest,  and  that  the  hornets  don't  have  any 
honey,  anyway,  and  that  we  don't  need  hornets  in  our 
regular  business,  somebody  in  authority  will  be  apt  to 
know  when  we  have  got  enough,  and  we  will  probably 
shake  the  dice  with  some  nation  that  is  so  addicted  to 
gambling  that  it  had  as  soon  shake  dice  for  hornets  as 
anything,  and  we  will  let  them  play  loaded  dice  on  us, 
and  shake  sixes,  and  we  will  turn  up  deuces  and  trays, 
and  let  them  win  the  condemned  mess  of  hornets  that 
didn't  give  honey,  and  that  have  nothing  but  stings, 
and  wish  whoever  wins  the  hornets  much  joy.  Under 
stand  me,  boy,  I  am  not  saying  anything  against  the  pol 
icy  of  our  administration,  if  it  has  got  one,  and  I  will 
hold  up  my  hands  and  root  for  the  army  as  long  as  it 


92  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

is  in  the  game,  and  will  encourage  the  President  all  I 
can  to  do  what  he  thinks  is  right,  but  I  shall  always 
feel  that  Spain  sold  him  a  gold  brick  for  20,000,000 
plunks,  and  that  he  has  not  yet  found  out  that  it  is 
made  of  brass.  I  know  the  tobacco  trust,  and  the 
cordage  trust,  and  lots  of  other  trusts  that  are  inter 
ested,  are  trying  to  make  him  believe  that  the  gold 
brick  he  bought  is  good  stuff,  and  that  he  must  pro 
tect  it,  or  some  other  nation  will  get  it  away  from 
him,  but  you  wait  until  that  Scotch-Irish  blood  of  the 
President  begins  to  boil v  when  he  finds  out  that  he 
has  been  bunkoed,  and  he  will  get  those  trust  mag 
nates  together  some  day,  and  he  will  get  pale  around 
the  gills,  and  mad  as  a  wet  hen,  and  he  will  say  that 
he  has  heard  about  all  the  funeral  dirges  on  the  long 
distance  telephone  from  Manila  that  he  wants  to  hear, 
and  that  the  wails  of  the  mourning  mothers  of  the 
dying  boys  are  keeping  him  awake  nights,  and  that  he 
has  got  about  enough,  trying  to  put  bells  on  the  Fili 
pino  wildcats,  and  that  they  can  take  the  whole  Phil 
ippine  archipelago  and  go  plum  to  hades  with  it,  for 
he  is  going  to  stop  the  death  rate,  and  get  those  boys 
home  and  set  them  to  plowing  corn." 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Ike,  don't  get  excited.  I  only  wanted 
to  change  the  subject  from  my  own  troubles  to  the 
troubles  of  our  country,"  and  he  went  out  singing, 
"There's  Only  One  Girl  in  All  This  World  for  Me," 
while  Uncle  Ike  took  off  his  collar  and  wiped  the  per 
spiration  off  his  neck,  and  fanned  himself  awhile,  and 
then  lit  his  pipe,  smoked  a  spell,  and  finally  said:  "Well, 
it  is  none  of  my  condum  business,  anyway,  I  s'pose." 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  93 


CHAPTER  XL 

Uncle  Ike  was  sitting  in  his  room  with  a  bath  rcbe 
on,  and  his  great,  big,  bare  feet  in  a  tub  of  hot  water, 
in  which  some  dry  mustard  had  been  sifted,  and  on  a 
table  beside  him  was  a  pitcher  of  hot  lemonade,  which 
he  was  trying  to  drink,  as  it  got  cool  enough  to  go 
down  his  neck  without  scorching  his  throat.  His  head 
was  hot,  and  he  had  evidently  taken  a  severe  cold,  and 
occasionally  he  would  groan,  when  he  moved  his  body, 
and  place  his  hand  to  the  small  of  his  back.  His  pipe 
and  tobacco  were  far  away  on  the  mantel,  though  he 
could  smell  them,  and  the  odor  so  satisfying  to  him 
when  he  was  well,  almost  made  him  sick,  and  when 
the  red-headed  boy  came  in  the  room  the  first  thing 
the  old  man  said  was  : 

"  Take  that  dum  pipe  and  terbacker  out  of  the  room, 
and  put  it  in  the  woodshed.  Your  Uncle  Ike  ain't 
en  joy  in'  his  terbacker  very  well,"  and  the  old  fellow 
made  up  a  face,  and  looked  as  though  he  was  on  a 
steamboat  excursion  in  rough  weather.  The  boy  took 
the  pipe  by  the  tail,  and  the  tobacco  paper  in  his  other 
hand,  and  went  out,  and  soon  returned  with  a  heavy 
blanket  coat  on,  a  pair  of  felt  boots,  and  a  toboggan 
knit-cap,  and  a  pair  of  yarn  mittens  on,  though  it  was 
late  in  July,  and  the  weather  was  quite  hot.  Uncle 
Ike  looked  at  him  in  wonder,  as  though  he  was  not 
sure  but  it  was  winter,  and  he  was  so  ill  as  not  to 


94  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

know  that  summer  and  fall  had  passed  without  his 
knowing  it. 

"  What  you  got  them  sliding-down-hill  clothes  on  for, 
in  July  ? "  said  the  old  man,  as  he  put  one  puckered-up 
bare  foot  on  the  other,  in  the  water,  and  sozzled  them 
around  in  the  mustard  in  the  bottom  of  the  tub.  "  You 
will  have  me  sunstruck  yet,  if  you  wear  those  clothes 
around  here.  What  is  up,  anyway  ? " 

"A  lot  of  us  boys  are  going  to  the  Klondike,"  said 
the  red-headed  boy,  as  he  took  a  big  hunting  knife  out 
of  a  sheath,  "and  I  came  in  to  see  if  you  would  grub 
stake  me.  We  have  been  reading  about  the  millions 
of  dollars  in  gold  nuggets  and  dust,  that  is  being 
brought  out,  and  we  are  going  to  have  some  of  the 
gold.  Want  your  corns  cut  ? "  said  the  boy,  as  he 
sharpened  the  knife  on  Uncle  Ike's  boot  that  lay  on 
the  floor. 

"You  ducks  have  been  reading  about  the  gold  that 
has  been  brought  out,  but  you  forgot  to  read  about 
the  corpses  that  stayed  in  the  Klondike,  didn't  you?" 
said  the  old  man  as  he  took  a  drink  of  the  hot  lemon 
ade,  and  pulled  the  bathrobe  around  his  hind  legs. 
"  You  tell  the  boys  you  are  not  going,  and  that  Uncle 
Ike  will  not  grubstake  you.  Tell  them  you  have 
found  out  that  for  every  dollar  in  gold  that  comes  out 
of  the  mines,  a  hundred  dollars  is  spent  to  find  it. 
Tell  them  that  not  one  man  in  a  hundred  that  goes 
there  ever  sees  anything  yellow,  except  the  janders. 
Tell  them  that  seven  out  of  ten  men  either  freeze  to 
death,  or  die  of  disease,  or  starve  to  death,  and  that 


MA  lot  of  us  boys  are  going  to  the  Klondike." 
95 


96  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

every  trail  in  Alaska  is  marked  with  graves  of  just 
such  fools  as  you  boys.  Tell  them  that  they  can 
make  more  money  selling  picture  books  at  a  blind 
asylum,  or  tin  trumpets  at  a  deaf  and  dumb  school, 
than  they  could  by  digging  gold  in  the  Klondike,  and 
that  you  are  going  to  stay  home.  Now  take  off  that 
uniform  and  get  down  on  your  knees  and  rub  my  feet 
dry,"  and  the  old  man  drew  one  foot  out  of  the  tub 
and  rested  it  on  the  edge,  while  the  boy  took  a  Turk 
ish  towel  that  looked  like  a  piece  of  tripe,  and  began 
polishing  the  foot,  like  a  bootblack. 

"  Gosh,  but  one  of  your  feet  would  make  about  six 
the  size  of  my  girl's  feet,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  fixed 
the  old  man  up,  and  helped  him  onto  a  lounge,  where 
he  stretched  out  and  went  to  sleep.  For  an  hour  the 
boy  watched  the  old  man,  and  listened  to  his  snore, 
and  finally  he  got  a  gutta-percha  bug  out  of  his  fish 
ing  tackle,  and  when  Uncle  Ike  woke  up  and  began  to 
stretch  the  boy  said :  "  Uncle  Ike,  I  have  saved  your 
life.  This  kissing  bug  was  just  ready  to  pounce  on 
you,  and  poison  you,  when  I  grabbed  it  and  killed  it. 
See!"  and  he  held  up  the  bug. 

"Yes,  I  see,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  rubbed  his  eyes, 
and  looked  at  the  kissing  bug.  You  examine  it  close, 
right  by  the  tail,  and  you  will  find  a  trout  hook.  I 
used  to  catch  a  great  many  trout  with  that  bug,"  and 
Uncle  Ike  got  up  and  stretched  his  limbs,  and  found 
that  his  cold  was  gone,  and  he  was  well  enough,  and 
he  dressed  himself  and  began  to  act  natural,  and  after 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  97 

the  boy  had  looked  him  over,  and  marveled  at  the 
sudden  cure,  he  said: 

"  Uncle  Ike,  you  have  deceived  me.  I  thought 
you  was  on  your  last  legs,  and  I  was  going  to  have  a 
serious  talk  with  you.  Heretofore,  when  I  have  tried 
to  talk  serious  with  you,  you  have  turned  everything 
into  fun,  but  now  I  want  a  serious  opinion  from  you. 
What  would  you  think  of  my  going  out  on  a  farm  and 
learning  to  be  a  farmer  ?  I  ride  by  farms  and  see 
farmers  and  boys  at  work,  or  lying  in  the  shade,  or 
drinking  out  of  a  jug,  or  sitting  on  loads  of  hay,  or 
riding  a  horse  plowing  corn,  and  it  seems  to  me  they 
have  an  easy  life,  and  they  must  make  money ;  and  if 
I  can't  enlist  to  fight  Filipinos,  nor  go  to  the  Klon 
dike,  I  want  to  be  a  farmer.  What  do  you  think, 
Uncle  Ike?"  and  the  boy  looked  up  into  the  old 
man's  face  appealingly. 

"Well,  bring  back  that  pipe  and  terbacker,  and  I 
will  tell  you  all  about  farming,  for  I  was  brung  up  on 
a  farm  till  I  was  busted."  The  bey  brought  in  the 
smoke  consumer,  and  after  the  old  man  had  puffed  a 
few  times,  and  found  it  did  not  make  him  sick,  he 
continued :  "  In  the  first  place,  you  are  getting  too 
old  to  learn  farming.  When  city  people  have  a  call 
to  farm  it,  they  buy  a  farm,  put  up  a  windmill,  get 
plumbers  out  from  town,  put  in  a  bathtub  with  hot 
and  cold  water,  and  buy  some  carriages  with  high 
backs,  and  go  in  for  enjoyment,  regardless  of  the 
price  of  country  produce.  They  put  in  hammocks 
and  lawn  tennis,  and  the  young  people  wear  knicker- 


98  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

bockers  and  white  canvas  dresses,  and  roll  their  pants 
up,  and  all  that.  There  is  no  money  in  farming  that 
way.  Now,  you  have  got  your  city  habits  formed ; 
you  don't  get  up  in  the  morning  till  after  7,  and  you 
have  to  take  a  bath,  and  have  fresh  underclothes  fre 
quently.  You  would  want  to  lay  in  the  shade  too 
much  and  ride  on  the  hay.  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you 
that  before  you  could  ride  on  the  hay  it  has  to  be 
cut,  and  cured,  and  cocked  up,  and  raked  around  ? 
It  takes  a  whole  lot  of  backaches  to  get  a  load  of  hay 
ready  for  you  to  ride  on.  Now,  you  are  going  on  20 
years  old.  If  you  had  been  born  on  a  farm,  you 
would  be  just  about  ready  to  quit  it  and  come  to 
town  to  learn  something  else.  You  would  have  a 
stomach  full  of  farming,  for  you  would  have  worked 
about  twelve  years,  day  and  night ;  your  hands  would 
be  muscular,  and  you  would  have  callouses  inside  of 
;hem.  You  go  out  on  a  farm  now,  at  your  age,  and 
when  you  get  the  first  blister  on  your  hands  you  want 
to  send  for  a  doctor,  and  you  throw  up  the  job  and 
come  back  on  my  hands.  Suppose  you  started  out 
next  Monday  morning  to  learn  to  be  a  farmer.  Let 
me  make  out  a  programme  for  you.  You  would  go 
to  bed  Sunday  night  at  9  o'clock,  and  lay  awake 
thinking  of  the  glory  of  a  farmer's  life,  and  at  3  a.  m. 
you  would  go  to  sleep,  and  at  4  you  would  hear  the 
door  to  the  attic  open,  and  a  voice  that  would  sound 
like  an  auctioneer  would  yell  to  you  to  come  down  and 
get  to  work.  You  couldn't  argue  the  case  with  the 
farmer,  as  you  do  with  me  when  I  try  to  get  you  up 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  99 

early  to  go  fishing ;  and  you  would  get  up  and  put  on 
a  pair  of  cowhide  shoes,  brown  overalls,  a  hickory 
shirt  with  bed-ticking  suspenders,  and  you  would  go 
out  into  a  barnyard  that  smelled  like  fury,  and  milk 
nine  or  fifteen  cows  on  an  empty  stomach  ;  and  while 
another  hired  man  was  taking  the  milk  to  a  creamery, 
you  would  see  that  it  was  not  daylight  yet,  but  you 
would  go  in  the  kitchen  and  eat  a  slice  of  pork,  and 
hurry  about  it,  and  then  you  would  curry  off  the 
horses,  and  help  hitch  the  team  to  a  reaper ;  and  just 
as  it  was  getting  light  enough  to  see  things,  you  would 
go  out  to  a  wheat  field,  and,  after  the  old  man  had 
cut  two  or  three  swaths  around  the  field,  several  of 
you  would  turn  in  to  bind  up  the  bundles.  They 
would  show  you  how,  and  then  they  would  see  that 
you  did  your  share  of  work. 

"You  would  hustle  for  about  four  hours,  and  you 
would  be  so  hungry  it  wouldn't  be  safe  for  a  dog  to 
come  around  you,  and  you  would  drink  warm  water 
out  of  a  jug  till  your  stomach  ached,  and  you  would 
wonder  if  it  was  not  almost  supper  time,  and  if  you 
looked  at  your  watch  you  would  find  it  was  only  about 
9  o'clock  in  the  morning,  with  three  more  solid  hours 
of  work  before  dinner  time.  When  the  horn  blew  for 
dinner  you  would  just  be  able  to  climb  on  one  of  the 
horses  to  ride  to  the  house,  and  the  harness  would 
take  the  skin  off  your  elbows.  When  you  got  to  the 
house  you  would  want  to  lay  down  and  die,  but  you 
would  have  to  pull  water  up  in  buckets  to  water  the 
horses,  and  go  up  in  the  hay  mow  and  throw  down 


TOO  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

hay  and  carry  oats  to  them,  and  when  you  went  in  to 
dinner  you  would  feel  as  though  you  could  eat  a  ten 
course  banquet,  but  you  would  find  that  it  was  wash 
ing  day,  and  they  didn't  do  any  cooking,  and  you 
would  eat  a  bowl  of  bread  and  milk,  and  chew  about  a 
bushel  of  young  onions,  and  when  you  were  filled  up 
and  wanted  to  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep,  and  die,  the 
old  man  would  tell  you  to  hustle  out  and  hitch  up 
that  team,  and  you  would  be  so  lame  you  couldn't 
ride  on  top  of  a  hard  farm  harness,  and  you  would 
walk  to  the  field,  your  heavy  shoes  wearing  the 
skin  off  your  ankles, .and  the  old  machine  would 
begin  to  stutter  and  rattle,  and  you  would  go  to 
work  binding  bundles  at  i  o'clock  and  work  till 
dark,  because  it  looked  as  though  it  was  going  to  rain, 
and  when  you  got  the  chores  done,  milked  the  cows, 
bedded  down  the  horses,  carried  in  wood  to  the 
kitchen  and  a  few  things  like  that,  and  they  told  you 
supper  was  ready,  you  would  say  you  would  rather  go 
to  bed  than  eat,  and  you  would  go  up  in  the  attic  and 
fall  on  the  bed,  and  go  to  sleep  and  dream  of  your 
Uncle  Ike.  Do  you  know  where  I  would  find  you 
next  ?  You  would  come  into  town  on  an  early  freight 
train  Tuesday  morning,  and  show  up  about  breakfast 
time,  and  you  would  hunt  the  bathtub,  and  if  any  man 
ever  talked  farming  to  you  again,  you  would  be  sassy 
to  him.  No,  boy,  the  city  man  or  boy  is  not  intended 
for  a  farmer,  but  the  farmer  boy  is  intended  for  the 
city,  when  he  gets  enough  of  the  farm.  About  so 
much  farming  has  got  to  be  done,  but  it  will  be  dona 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  101 

by  those  who  are  brought  up  to  it,  and  who  know  that 
every  minui  e  has  got  to  be  used  to  produce  some 
thing,  that  the  appetite  must  be  satisfied  easily  and 
cheaply,  and  that  everything  on  the  farm  must  be  of 
marketable  value,  and  nothing  must  be  bought  that 
can  be  dispensed  with,  and  that  everybody  must  work 
or  give  a  good  reason  for  not  working.  The  pleasure 
of  farming  is  largely  in  anticipation.  The  big  crops 
and  big  prices  are  always  coming  next  year.  You 
would  be  about  as  good  at  farming  as  I  would  at 
preaching,"  and  Uncle  Ike  gradually  ceased  speaking, 
like  an  old  clock  that  is  running  down,  and  ticking 
slower  and  slower,  and  then  he  fell  asleep  in  his  chair, 
and  the  red-headed  boy  sat  and  thought  of  what  had 
been  said,  and  looked  at  his  hands  as  though  he 
expected  to  find  a  blister,  and  smelled  of  them,  to  see 
if  he  had  actually  been  milking  cows,  and  then  he 
rolled  over  on  the  lounge  and  went  to  sleep,  and  the 
two  snored  a  match. 


i 

\ 


i02  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  Uncle  Ike,  I  heard  a  rumor  about  you  yesterday 
that  tickled  me  almost  to  death,"  said  the  red-headed 
boy,  as  he  came  into  the  old  gentleman's  room  while 
he  was  shaving,  and  the  boy  took  the  lather  brush  and 
worked  it  up  and  down  in  the  cup  until  the  lather  run 
over  the  side,  and  he  had  lather  enough  on  hand  to 
shave  half  the  men  in  town. 

"What  was  it  ?  "  said  the  old  man,  as  he  puckered 
his  mouth  on  one  side,  and  opened  it  so  he  could  shave 
around  the  corner  of  his  mouth.  "  Nothing  disreput 
able,  is  it ;  nothing  to  bring  disgrace  on  the  family?" 
and  he  wiped  the  razor  on  a  piece  of  newspaper,  and 
stropped  it  on  his  hand,  as  he  looked  in  the  mirror  to 
see  if  there  were  any  new  wrinkles  in  his  face. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  as  it  would  disgrace  us  so  very 
much,  if  you  looked  out  for  yourself,  and  didn't  steal," 
said  the  boy,  as  he  began  to  sharpen  his  knife  on 
Uncle  Ike's  razor  strop.  "  There  is  a  rumor  among 
the  boys  that  you  may  be  nominated  for  President, 
and  a  lot  of  us  boys  got  together  and  took  a  vote, 
when  we  were  in  swimming,  and  you  were  elected 
unanimously.  I  am  to  be  the  boss  who  deals  out  the 
offices,  and  all  the  boys  are  going  to  have  a  soft  snap. 
Before  the  thing  goes  any  further  the  boys  wanted  me 
to  see  you,  and  have  you  promise  that  anything  I  prom 
ised  should  be  good,  see  ? " 


"Uncle  Ike,  I  heard  a  rumor  about  you  yesterday  that  tickled 
me  almost  to  death." 

103 


104  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

"  Well,  you  are  a  dum  nice  lot  of  politicians,  to  work 
up  this  boom  for  me,  without  my  consent,"  and  the 
old  man  put  up  his  razor,  and  began  to  wash  the  lather 
off  his  face,  and  while  he  was  rubbing  his  red  and 
laughing  face  with  a  towel,  he  said  :  "  If  I  am  elected 
President,  and  I  want  you  to  understand  that  I  have 
not  yet  consented  to  take  the  nomination,  I  would, 
the  first  thing  I  did,  have  all  my  relatives  either  sent 
to  jail,  or  confined  in  various  asylums  of  one  kind  or 
another.  I  think  I  would  send  you  to  a  home  for  the 
feeble-minded." 

"  What's  the  matter  "with  relatives  ? "  said  the  boy, 
as  he  took  the  razor,  and  searched  around  on  his  lip 
for  some  hairs,  and  finally  got  hold  of  one,  and  the 
razor  pulled  it  so  hard  the  tears  came  in  his  eyes ; 
"seems  to  me  a  President  with  all  his  relatives  in  jail 
would  be  looked  upon  as  a  disgrace  to  society." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  care,"  said  the  old  man,  as  he 
struggled  to  make  a  fourteen-inch  collar  button  on  to 
a  sixteen-inch  shirt,  and  nearly  choked  himself  before 
he  found  out  he  had  got  the  boy's  collar  by  mistake. 
"  I  have  watched  this  President  business  a  good  many 
years,  and  have  concluded  that  the  most  of  the  trouble 
a  President  has  is  through  fool  relatives.  Look  at 
Grant.  You  couldn't  throw  a  stone  in  Washington 
without  hitting  a  relative,  and  they  got  into  more 
scrapes,  and  dragged  Grant  into  more  disgrace,  and 
fool  schemes,  than  anything.  There  wasn't  offices 
enough  for  all  of  them,  and  some  had  to  live  in  other 
ways,  which  didn't  help  Ulysses  very  much.  Harri- 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  105 

son  never  had  any  pleasure  until  he  had  an  operation 
performed  on  his  son  to  remove  his  talking  utensils. 
That  boy  would  be  interviewed  and  jollied,  and  he 
would  tell  more  things  that  were  not  so,  about  pa's 
policy,  than  the  President  could  stand.  But  a  brother 
is  the  worst  relative  a  President  can  have,  if  he  is  a 
half-way  lawyer.  A  President  cannot  kill  a  brother 
that  is  older  than  he  is,  and  can't  prevent  his  being 
retained,  and  can't  keep  his  brother's  fingers  out  of 
all  the  contracts,  and  his  being  attorney  for  contract 
ors,  and  can't  tell  him  to  keep  away  from  the  White 
House,  and  don't  dare  to  tell  his  brother  not  to  go 
around  looking  wise,  as  though  he  was  running  the 
whole  administration.  No,  sir ;  there  ought  to  be  a 
law  that  when  a  man  is  elected  President,  all  male 
relatives  that  are  old  enough  to  talk,  should  have 
their  mouths  sewed  up,  and  be  compelled  to  put 
on  gloves  that  are  fastened  with  a  time  lock,  so 
they  couldn't  get  their  hands  into  anything  that  would 
bring  disgrace  on  the  chief  magistrate.  Now,  if  you 
boys  want  me  for  President,  with  this  understanding, 
that  you  shall  all  keep  away  from  me  after  the  4th  of 
March,  and  never  let  anybody  know  that  you  ever 
heard  of  me,  and  that  you  will  never  write  me  even  a 
postal  card,  why,  you  can  go  ahead  with  your  boom," 
and  the  old  man  tied  his  necktie  so  it  looked  like  a 
scrambled  egg,  and  he  and  the  boy  went  in  to  break 
fast,  the  boy  opening  the  outside  door  and  whistling 
a  weird  whistle,  which  brought  three  boys  up  on  the 
porch,  when  he  said  to  them : 


lo6  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

"  By  the  way,  that  presidential  boom  for  Uncle  Ike 
is  off.  Don't  let  the  gang  do  another  thing.  He  is 
a  lobster,"  and  the  boys  went  out  into  the  world  look 
ing  for  another  candidate,  followed  by  a  dog  that 
jumped  up  and  down  in  front  of  them  as  though  he 
could  lead  them  to  a  presidential  candidate  or  a  wood- 
chuck  hole  mighty  quick. 

"Speaking  of  dogs,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  and  the 
boy  sat  down  to  breakfast,  and  the  other  boys  went 
out  on  the  street  to  wait  for  the  red-headed  boy  to 
finish  eating,  "where  you  boys  going  ?  " 

"Just  going  to  follow  the  dog,"  said  the  warm- 
haired  proposition,  as  he  kicked  because  the  melon 
was  not  ripe.  "  Did  you  ever  drown  out  a  gopher, 
Uncle  Ike  ? " 

"  Bet  your  life,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  dished  out 
enough  food  for  the  boy  to  have  fed  an  orphan  asy 
lum.  "  Oh,  I  had  a  dog  once  that  knew  more  than 
an  alderman.  Do  you  know,  boy,  that  a  dog  is  the 
best  thing  a  boy  can  associate  with  ?  A  boy  never 
does  anything  very  mean,  if  he  has  a  dog  that  loves 
him.  Many  a  time  I  have  been  just  about  ready  to 
do  a  mean  trick,  when  the  dog  would  sit  down  in 
front  of  me,  and  look  up  into  my  eyes  in  an  appeal 
ing  way,  and  raise  up  one  ear  at  a  time  and  drop  it, 
and  raise  the  other,  and  he  would  jump  up  on  me  and 
lick  my  hand,  and  seem  to  say,  '  Don't,'  and,  by 
gosh  !  I  didn't.  Say,  if  a  mean  boy  has  a  dog  that 
loves  him,  the  dog  is  better  than  he  is,  and  the  boy  is 
careful  about  doing  mean  things,  for  fear  he  will 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  107 

shame  the  dog.  I  don't  suppose  a  dog  will  get  tc 
heaven,  but,  if  his  master  goes  to  heaven,  the  dog  k 
mighty  likely  to  lay  down  on  the  outside  of  the  pea  1> 
gates,  and  just  starve  to  death,  waiting  to  hear  the 
familiar  whistle  of  his  master,  who  is  enjoying  himj'^lf 
inside.  Now,  let's  go  out  on  the  porch  while  I 
smoke  ;"  and  the  old  man  led  the  way,  and  lighted  up 
the  old  churn,  and  puffed  away  a  while,  and  the  Ix>y 
was  in  a  hurry  to  get  away  with  the  other  boys ;  and 
finally  the  boys  came  up  on  the  porch,  and  the  dog 
went  up  to  Uncle  Ike  and  licked  his  hand,  as  the  ugh 
he  knew  the  old  man  was  a  friend  of  dogs  and  toys. 

"  What's  this  scar  on  his  nose  ?  Woodchuck  bite 
him  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  boys. 

"And  this  one  on  the  under  lip?"  said  thi  old 
man.  "  Looks  like  a  gopher  had  took  a  bite  out  of 
that  lip." 

"  That's  what  it  was,"  said  another  boy,  and  they 
all  laughed  to  think  that  a  dignified  old  man  like  Un 
cle  Ike  could  tell  all  about  the  scars  on  a  cheap  dog. 

"  Well,  boys,  I  won't  detain  you  if  you  are  going 
out  to  exercise  the  dog  on  woodchucks  or  gophers. 
But  let  me  tell  you  this,"  and  he  puffed  quite  a  little 
while  on  the  pipe,  and  seemed  to  be  harking  away 
back  to  the  bark  of  the  dog  friend  of  his  boyhood,  and 
the  boys  could  almost  see  the  dirt  flying  out  of  an  old- 
time  woodchuck  hole  as  the  dog  of  Unc,e  Ike's  mem 
ory  was  digging  and  biting  at  roots,  am'  snarling  at  a 
woodchuck  that  was  safe  enough  away  d  ->vn  below  the 


io8  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

ground.  "  Let  me  tell  you  something.  You  want  to 
play  fair  with  the  dog.  A  dog  has  got  more  sense 
than  some  men.  He  can  tell  a  loafer,  after  one  wood- 
chuck  hunt.  The  boy  who  gets  interested  when  the 
dog  is  digging  out  a  woodchuck,  gets  down  on  his 
knees  and  pushes  the  dirt  away,  and  pats  the  dog,  and 
encourages  him,  and  when  he  comes  to  a  root,  takes 
his  knife  and  cuts  it  away,  is  the  thoroughbred  that 
the  dog  will  tie  to ;  but  the  boy  who  sits  in  the  shade 
and  sicks  the  dog  on,  and  don't  help,  but  bets  they 
don't  get  the  woodchuck,  and  when  the  dog  and  his 
working  partner  pulls  the  woodchuck  out,  gets  up  out 
of  the  shade  and  begins  to  talk  about  how  we  got  the 
woodchuck,  is  the  loafer.  He  is  the  kind  of  fellow 
who  will  encourage  others  to  enlist  and  go  to  war,  in 
later  life,  while  he  stays  home  and  kicks  about  the 
way  the  war  is  conducted,  and  shaves  mortgages 
on  the  homes  of  soldiers,  and  forecloses  them.  That 
kind  of  a  boy  will  be  the  one  who  will  lie  in  the  shade 
when  he  grows  up,  and  not  work  in  the  sun.  Didn't 
you  ever  see  a  dog  half-way  down  a  woodchuck  hole, 
kicking  dirt  into  the  bosom  of  the  boy's  pants  who  is 
backing  him,  suddenly  back  out  of  the  hole,  wag  his 
tail  and  wink  his  eyes,  full  of  dirt,  at  the  boy  who  is 
working  the  hole  with  him,  and  then  run  out  his 
tongue  and  loll,  and  look  at  the  fellows  who  are  sitting 
around  waiting  for  the  last  act,  in  the  shade,  and  say 
to  them,  as  plain  as  a  dog  can  talk,  '  You  fellows  make 
me  tired.  Why  don't  you  get  some  style  about  you, 
and  come  in  on  this  game  on  the  ground  floor  ? '  and 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  109 

then  he  gets  rested  a  little,  and  you  say,  'dig  him  out,' 
and  he  swallows  a  big  sigh  at  their  laziness,  and  goes 
down  in  the  hole  and  digs  and  growls  so  the  lazy  boys 
think  he  has  forgotten  that  they  are  deadheads  in  the 
enterprise,  but  the  dog  does  not  forget." 

"Well,  I  swow,  if  your  Uncle  Ike  ain't  away  up  in 
G  on  woodchuck  hunting,"  said  one  of  the  neighbor 
boys  as  they  all  sat  around  the  old  man,  with  their 
eyes  wide  open.  "  How  about  drowning  out  a  gopher  ?" 

"  Same  thing,  exactly,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  filled 
up  the  pipe  again,  and  lit  it,  and  run  a  broom  straw 
through  the  stem,  to  give  it  air.  "  The  dog  watches 
the  hole,  and  keeps  tab  on  the  boys  who  carry  water. 
You  have  got  to  keep  the  water  going  down  the 
gopher  hole,  and  you  got  to  work  like  sixty.  Gophers 
know  better  than  to  ~have  holes  too  near  the  water, 
and  the  dog  knows  what  boy  flunks  after  he  carries 
one  pail  of  water,  and  says,  <  Oh,  darn  a  gopher  any 
way  ;  I  hain't  lost  no  gopher,'  and  goes  and  sits  down 
and  lets  the  other  boys  carry  water.  The  dog  knows 
that  the  boy  who  keeps  carrying  water  and  pouring  it 
in  the  hole  is  the  thoroughbred,  and  that  the  quitter 
has  got  a  streak  of  yellow  in  him.  When  the  hole  is 
filled  up  with  water,  and  the  gopher  comes  to  the  sur 
face,  and  the  dog  grabs  for  it,  and  the  boy  who  took 
off  his  clothes  and  carried  water  also  grabs,  and  either 
the  dog  or  the  boy  gets  bit,  usually  the  boy,  the  dog 
knows  that  the  boy  who  worked  with  him  on  that 
gopher  hole  has  got  the  making  of  a  good  business 
man  in  him.  A  business  or  professional  career,  boys, 


«10  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

is  just  like  digging  out  a  woodchuck,  or  drowning  out 
a  gopher,  and  the  fellows  who  help  the  dog  when  they 
are  boys,  are  the  ones  who  are  mighty  apt  to  get  the 
business  woodchuck  when  they  grow  up.  I  will  bet 
you  ten  dollars  that  if  you  pick  out  the  most  success 
ful  business  man  in  town,  and  go  look  at  his  left 
thumb  nail,  you  will  find  a  scar  on  it  where  a  half- 
drowned  gopher  bit  him,  because  he  was  at  the  hole 
at  the  right  time.  Now,  go  and  have  fun,  and  be  sure 
and  play  fair  with  the  dog,"  and  Uncle  Ike  took  down 
a  broom  and  shook  it  at  them  as  they  scattered  down 
the  street,  the  dog  barking  joyously. 

"I  speak  for  carrying  the  water  to  drown  out  the 
gopher !"  yelled  the  red-headed  boy. 

"  Me,  too !"  shouted  the  other  boys  in  chorus,  as 
they  disappeared  from  sight,  and  Uncle  Ike  listened 
until  they  were  out  of  hearing,  and  then  he  limped 
down  to  the  gate  and  looked  up  the  road  toward  the 
country,  but  all  he  could  see  was  a  cloud  of  dust  with 
a  dog  in  it,  and  he  walked  back  to  the  house  sadly, 
and  as  he  lifted  the  lame  leg  upon  the  porch,  and  took 
his  hat,  he  said  : 

"  Blamed  if  I  don't  hitch  up  the  mare  and  drive  out 
there  where  those  boys  have  gone.  I'll  bet  I  know 
woodchuck  holes  and  gopher  holes  them  kids  never 
would  find  if  they  had  a  whole  passel  of  dogs,"  and 
he  went  out  to  the  barn  and  pretty  soon  Aunt  Almira 
heard  him  yell,  "  Whoa,  gosh  darn  ye,  take  in  that 
bit !"  and  she  put  on  her  sunbonnet  and  went  out  to 
the  barn  to  see  if  he  had  actually  gone  crazy. 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"What  you  scratching  yourself  on  the  chest  for?" 
said  Uncle  Ike,  as  the  red-headed  boy  stood  with  one 
hand  inside  his  vest,  digging  as  though  his  life  de 
pended  on  his  doing  a  good  job.  "  Is  there  anything 
the  matter  with  you  that  soap  and  water  will  not 
cure  ? "  and  the  old  man  punched  the  boy  in  the  ribs 
with  a  great  big,  hard  thumb,  as  big  as  a  banana. 

"  Uncle  Ike,  how  long  will  a  porous  plaster  stay  on, 
and  isn't  there  any  way  to  stop  its  itching  ?  I  have 
had  one  on  for  seventeen  days  and  nights,  and  it 
seems  to  be  getting  worse  all  the  time,"  said  the  boy, 
as  he  dug  away  at  his  chest. 

"Good  heavens,  take  it  off  quick!"  said  Uncle  Ike, 
as  he  laid  his  lighted  pipe  down  on  the  table,  on  a 
nice,  clean  cloth,  and  the  ashes  and  fire  spilled  out, 
and  burned  a  hole  in  it.  "  You  will  die  of  mortifica 
tion.  Those  plasters  are  only  intended  to  be  used  as 
posters  for  a  day  or  two.  What  in  the  name  of  com 
mon  sense  have  you  worn  it  seventeen  days  for? 
Let's  rip  it  off." 

'•  No,  I  have  got  to  wear  it  eighteen  days  more," 
said  the  boy,  with  a  look  of  resignation.  "  Now, 
don't  laugh,  Uncle  Ike,  will  you  ?  You  see  my  girl 
has  gone  to  the  seashore  to  be  gone  five  weeks,  and 
she  gave  me  a  tintype  and  told  me  to  wear  it  next  my 
heart  till  she  got  back,  and  I  thought  I  could  get  it 


ill  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

nearer  my  heart  by  putting  it  right  against  the  skin, 
and  putting  a  porous  plaster  over  it,  and  by  gum,  I 
can  feel  her  on  my  heart  every  minute.  Now  don't 
laugh,  Uncle." 

"Well,  I  guess  not,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  put  out 
the  fire  on  the  table-cloth,  and  smoked  a  little  while 
to  settle  his  thoughts.  "  Here,  this  plaster  has  got 
to  be  removed  before  the  fatal  day  of  her  return,  or 
you  will  be  holding  down  a  job  as  a  red-headed  angel. 
Now,  open  your  shirt,"  and  the  old  man  reached  in 
and  got  a  corner  of  the  plaster,  and  gave  a  jerk  that 
caused  every  hair  on  th£  boy's  head  to  raise  up  and 
crack  like  a  whiplash,  while  the  tintype  of  the  girl, 
covered  with  crude  India  rubber  and  medicated  glue, 
dropped  on  the  floor,  and  the  boy  turned  pale  and 
yelled  bloody  murder.  "  Now,  don't  ever  do  that 
again.  A  picture  in  your  inside  pocket  is  near 
enough  to  the  heart  for  all  practical  purposes.  Next, 
you  will  be  swallowing  her  picture  in  the  hope  that  it 
will  lodge  near  your  heart.  Now  I  got  something 
serious  to  talk  with  you  about.  One  of  the  park 
policemen  was  here  this  morning  looking  for  you. 
He  said  some  of  you  boys  just  raised  merry  hades 
at  the  park  concert  last  night.  What  did  you  do?" 

"Just  flushed  quails,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  buttoned 
his  shirt,  and  gave  the  sore  spot  a  parting  dig.  "  We 
played  we  were  hunting  quail,  and  we  had  more  fun 
than  you  ever  saw." 

"  There  are  no  quail  in  the  park,"  said  Uncle  Ike, 
as  he  looked  curiously  at  the  boy  through  the  smoke, 


"  Here,  this  plaster  has  got  to  be  removed  Wore  the  fatal  day 
of  her  return." 

113 


H4  Peck's   Uncle  Ike 

and  puffed  until  his  cheeks  sank  in,  and  the  tears 
came  to  his  eyes.  "  What  is  this  quail  fable,  anyway  ?" 

"  You  see,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  took  a  piece  of  ice 
out  of  the  water  pitcher  and  held  it  in  his  bosom, 
where  the  plaster  came  off,  "  when  there  is  an  even 
ing  concert  at  the  park,  the  boys  and  girls  go  off  in 
couples  and  sit  under  the  trees  in  the  dark,  or  on  the 
grass,  where  no  one  can  see  them  very  well,  and  they 
take  hold  of  hands  and  put  their  arms  around  each 
other,  and  all  the  time  they  are  scared  for  fear  they 
will  be  caught,  and  ordered  to  quit.  Well,  us  boys  go 
around  in  the  dark,  and 'when  we  see  a  couple  in  that 
way,  one  boy  comes  to  a  point,  like  a  dog,  another 
boy  walks  up  to  the  couple  and  flushes  them,  and  as 
they  get  up  quick  to  go  somewhere  else,  I  blow  up  a 
paper  bag  and  bust  it,  and  they  start  off  on  a  run. 
Say,  Uncle  Ike,  it  is  fun.  We  chased  one  couple 
clear  to  the  lake." 

"  You  did,  did  you,  you  little  imp  ?"  said  the  old 
man,  as  his  sympathies  were  aroused  for  the  young 
people  who  were  disturbed  at  a  critical  time.  "  Don't 
let  me  ever  hear  of  your  flushing  any  more  couples, 
or  I'll  flush  you  the  first  time  I  catch  you  with  your 
girl.  How  would  you  like  to  be  flushed  ?  The  parks 
are  the  only  places  many  young  people  have  to  talk 
love  to  each  other,  and  it  is  cruel  to  disturb  them  by 
bursting  paper  bags  in  their  vicinity.  If  I  was  mayor 
I  would  build  a  thousand  little  summer  houses  in  the 
parks,  just  big  enough  for  a  poor  young  couple  to  sit 
in,  and  talk  over  the  future,  and  I  would  set  police- 


arid  the  Red-headed  Boy  1 1 5 

men  to  watch  out  that  nobody  disturbed  them,  and  if 
one  of  you  ducks  come  along,  I  would  have  you 
thrown  in  the  lake.  The  idea  of  a  boy  who  is  in  love 
the  way  you  pretend  to  be,  having  no  charity  for  oth 
ers,  makes  me  sick.  I'll  bet  none  of  those  you 
flushed  last  night  had  it  so  bad  they  had  tintypes  of 
the  girls  glued  on  their  hearts  with  a  porous  plaster. 
Bah!  you  meddler!"  and  the  old  man  stamped  his 
foot  on  the  floor,  and  the  boy  looked  ashamed. 

"Well,  that's  the  last  time  I  will  mix  in  another 
fellow's  love  affair,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  climbed  up 
on  Uncle  Ike's  knee. 

"  Now,  I  want  to  talk  to  you  seriously,"  said  the 
boy,  as  he  looked  up  into  Uncle  Ike's  round,  smooth, 
red  and  smiling  face.  "  Us  boys  have  been  reading 
about  the  serious  condition  of  our  country,  when  its 
wealthy  citizens  are  leaving  it  and  going  abroad  to 
live.  Do  you  think,  uncle,  that  William  Waldorf 
Astor's  deserting  this  country,  and  joining  England, 
is  going  to  cause  this  country  to  fail  up  in  business  ? 
In  case  of  war  with  England,  do  you  think  he  would 
fight  this  country  ? " 

"Well,  you  kids  can  borrow  more  trouble  about 
this  poor  old  country  of  ours  than  the  men  who  own 
it  can  borrow.  Astor !  Why,  boy,  his  deserting  his 
country  will  have  about  as  much  effect  as  it  would 
for  that  man  working  in  the  street  to  pack  up  his 
household  goods  and  move  to  Indiana.  Do  you  sup 
pose  this  state  would  tip  up  sideways  if  he  should 
quit  running  that  scraper  and  move  out  of  the  state  ? 


u6  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

Not  much.  The  Astors  have  been  rich  so  long  that 
they  are  un-American.  It  is  not  the  natural  condi 
tion  of  an  American  to  be  rich.  When  a  man  gets 
too  rich,  he  is  worried  as  to  what  to  do  with  his 
money.  There  is  no  great  enjoyment  that  the  very 
rich  can  have  in  this  country  that  the  poor  cannot 
have  a  little  of.  The  first  thing  a  very  rich  man  ac 
quires  is  a  bad  stomach.  He  becomes  too  lazy  to 
take  exercise,  and  lets  a  hired  man  take  exercise  for 
him.  He  looks  at  his  money,  and  thinks  of  his  stom 
ach.  In  Astor's  case  there  was  nothing  in  this  coun 
try  that  he  could  enjoy,  not  even  sleep.  Nobody 
respected  him  any  more  than  they  did  every  other 
honest  man.  Only  a  few  toadies  would  act  toward 
him  as  though  he  was  a  world's  wonder,  on  account 
of  his  wealth.  People  with  souls,  and  health,  and 
good  nature,  in  the  West,  got  rich  as  he,  and  went  to 
New  York,  and  knew  how  to  spend  money  and  have 
fun,  and  do  good  with  it ;  and  Astor  couldn't  under 
stand  it.  He  wanted  to  be  considered  the  only,  but 
he  never  had  learned  how  to  blow  in  money  to  make 
others  happy.  If  he  gave  to  the  poor,  an  agent  did 
it  for  him,  and  squeezed  it,  and  made  a  memorandum 
and  showed  it  to  him  once  a  year,  and  he  frowned, 
and  his  stomach  ached,  and  he  took  a  pill,  and  sighed. 
I  suppose  two  girls  from  California,  daughters  of  an 
old  Roman  of  the  mines  and  the  railroads,  who  died 
too  soon,  a  senator  with  a  soul,  taught  Astor  how  to 
do  good  with  money,  and  maybe  scared  him  out  of 
the  country.  Those  girls  seemed  to  know  where 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  117 

there  was  a  chance  for  suffering  among  the  poor,  and 
they  kept  people  in  their  employ  on  the  run  to  get  to 
places  before  the  bread  was  all  gone,  until  half  a  mil 
lion  of  the  people  that  only  knew  there  was  an  Astor 
by  the  signs  on  buildings  for  rent,  knew  these  Fair 
girls  by  sight,  and  worshiped  them  as  they  passed. 
The  girls  are  married  now,  but  they  give  just  the 
same,  and  wherever  they  are  in  the  world  there  is 
the  crowd,  and  there  is  the  love  of  those  who  believe 
them  angels.  Astor  could  not  find  any  one  to  love 
him  for  any  good  he  ever  did  that  did  not  have  rent 
or  interest  as  the  object,  and  he  went  away  where  a 
man  is  respected  in  a  half-way  manner,  in  proportion 
to  the  money  he  spends  on  royalty,  in  imitating  roy 
alty,  and  he  will  run  a  race  there,  and  get  tired  of  it ; 
and  some  day,  if  he  lives,  he  will  come  back  to  this 
country  in  the  steerage,  as  his  ancestors  did,  and  take 
out  his  first  papers  and  vote,  and  maybe  he  will  be 
happy.  The  only  way  for  a  rich  man  to  be  very 
happy  is  to  find  avenues  for  getting  his  congested 
wealth  off  his  mind,  where  it  will  cause  some  one  who 
is  poor  and  suffering  to  look  up  to  him,  and  say  that 
riches  have  not  spoiled  him.  But  to  inherit  money 
and  go  through  life  letting  it  accumulate,  and  not 
finding  any  avenue  where  it  can  leak  out  and  be 
caught  in  the  apron  of  a  needy  soul,  is  tough.  No, 
you  boys  need  not  worry  about  the  desertion  of  Astor. 
If  we  have  a  war  with  Great  Britain,  you  would  find 
Astor  taking  a  night  trip  across  the  channel,  and 
France  would  draw  him  in  the  lottery.  One  for- 


n8  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

eigner  who  landed  in  this  country  the  day  Astor 
sailed  away,  will  be  of  more  value  in  peace  or  war 
than  Astor  could  be  if  he  had  remained." 

"Gosh  ! "  said  the  boy,  as  he  got  up  out  of  Uncle 
Ike's  lap,  "if  you  are  not  a  comfort !  Between  that 
porous  plaster,  and  Astor's  going  to  England,  and  my 
girl  at  the  seashore,  I  was  about  down  with  nervous 
prostration,  but  I  am  all  right  now,"  and  the  red 
headed  boy  went  out  to  round  up  the  gang  and  tell 
them  the  country  was  all  safe  enough,  as  long  as  they 
had  Uncle  Ike  to  run  it.  • 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  119 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  Well,  you  are  a  sight  !  "  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  the 
red-headed  boy  came  in  the  room,  all  out  of  breath, 
his  shirt  unbuttoned  and  his  hair  wet  and  dripping, 
and  his  face  so  clean  that  it  was  noticeable.  "  Why 
don't  you  make  your  toilet  before  you  come  into  a 
gentleman's  room  ?  Where  you  been,  anyway  ? " 

"Been  in  swimming  at  the  old  swimming  hole," 
said  the  boy,  as  he  finished  buttoning  his  shirt,  and 
sat  down  to  put  on  his  shoes  and  stockings,  which  he 
had  carried  in  his  hat.  "  Had  more  fun  than  a  barrel 
of  monkeys.  Stole  the  clothes  of  a  boy,  and  left  him 
a  paper  flour  sack  to  go  home  in.  Wait  a  minute 
and  you  will  see  him  go  by,"  and  the  boy  rushed  to 
the  window  and  yelled  to  Uncle  Ike  to  come  and  see 
the  fun.  Presently  a  boy  came  down  the  street  from 
toward  the  river  with  nothing  on  but  a  flour  sack. 
He  had  cut  holes  in  the  bottom  to  put  his  feet  through, 
and  pulled  it  up  to  his  body,  and  the  upper  part  cov 
ered  his  chest  to  the  arms,  which  were  bare  and  sun 
burned,  and  the  boy  was  marching  along  the  street  as 
unconcerned  as  possible,  while  all  who  saw  him  were 
laughing. 

"  What  did  you  do  that  for  ? "  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he 
called  to  the  boy  to  come  in. 

"Just  for  a  joke,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  laugh- 


120  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

ing,  and  jollying  the  boy  dressed  in  the  flour  sack,  as 
he  came  in  at  Uncle  Ike's  invitation. 

"Well,  that  is  a  good  enough  joke  for  two,"  said 
Uncle  Ike.  "  Now  take  off  your  clothes  and  change 
with  this  boy,  and  put  on  the  flour  sack  yourself,"  and 
he  superintended  the  change,  until  the  other  boy  had 
on  a  full  suit  of  clothes,  and  the  red-headed  boy  had 
on  the  flour  sack.  "  Now  I  want  you  to  go  to  the 
grocery  and  get  me  a  paper  of  tobacco." 

"  O,  gosh,  I  don't  want  to  go  out  in  the  street  with 
this  flour  sack  on.  Some  dog  will  chase  me,  and  the 
people  will  make  fun  of  me,"  said  the  boy,  with  an 
entirely  new  view  of  a  practical  joke. 

"  But  you  go  all  the  same,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  taking 
down  a  leather  strap  that  he  sharpened  his  razor  on, 
and  driving  the  boy  outdoors.  "  Bring  back  this 
boy's  clothes,  also,"  and  he  sat  down  and  waited  for 
the  boy  to  return.  He  came  back  after  awhile  with 
the  tobacco  and  the  clothes,  followed  by  a  lot  of  other 
boys,  and  after  the  two  had  changed  clothes,  and  all 
had  enjoyed  a  good  laugh,  Uncle  Ike  said : 

"  Boys,  playing  practical  jokes  is  a  good  deal  like 
jumping  on  a  man  when  he  is  down.  You  will  notice 
that  the  weaker  boy  always  has  the  joke  played  on 
him.  Boys  always  combine  against  the  weak  boy. 
The  boy  that  can  whip  any  of  you  never  has  to  wear 
a  flour  sack  home  from  the  swimming  hole,  does  he  ? 
Any  joke  that  you  can  take  turns  at  having  played  on 
you  is  fair,  but  when  you  combine  against  the  weak, 
you  become  a  monopoly,  or  a  trust.  When  I  was  a 


.'Presently  a  boy  came  down  the  street  from  toward  the  river 
with  nothing  on  but  a  flour  sack." 


121 


122  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

boy  we  used  to  tie  the  clothes  of  the  biggest  and 
meanest  boy  in  knots,  and  if  he  couldn't  take  a  joke 
we  all  turned  in  and  mauled  him.  After  this,  if  there 
is  to  be  any  jokes,  let  the  biggest  boy  take  his  turn 
first,  and  then  I  don't  care  how  soon  the  others  take 
their  dose,  but  this  trust  business  has  got  to  be  broke 
up,"  and  Uncle  Ike  patted  the  boys  on  the  head 
and  said  they  could  go  and  have  all  the  fun  they 
wanted  to. 

"  Speaking  of  trusts,  Uncle  Ike,  I  thought  you 
said,  a  spell  ago,  that  the  trusts  would  be  brought  up 
with  a  round  turn,"  sajd  the  red-headed  boy,  reading, 
as  he  glanced  at  a  heading  in  a  morning  paper,  "  but 
here  is  an  article  says  that  a  thousand  million  billion 
dollars  have  been  invested  in  trusts  in  New  Jersey, 
and  the  manager  of  one  of  the  biggest  trusts  says 
nobody  can  do  anything  to  stop  them.  He  says  : 
'  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ? '  " 

"  Well,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  filled  the  air  with 
strong  tobacco  smoke,  and  his  eyes  snapped  like  they 
did  when  he  was  mad,  "you  wait.  I  am  older  than 
you  are.  I  remember  when  old  Bill  Tweed,  the  great 
robber  of  New  York,  who  had  stolen  millions  of  dol 
lars  from  the  city,  and  was  in  his  greatest  power,  be 
came  arrogant,  and  asked  the  people  what  they  were 
going  to  do  about  it.  When  people  think  they  are 
invincible  they  always  ask  what  anybody  is  going  to 
do  about  it.  When  a  bully  steps  on  the  foot  of  a  quiet 
and  inoffensive  man,  purposely  to  get  into  a  row, 
he  looks  at  his  victim  in  an  impudent  manner  and 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  123 

says,  '  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ? '  and  the 
victim  gets  up  deliberately  and  thrashes  the  ground 
with  the  bully.  The  people  got  mad  at  Tweed  when 
he  said  that,  and  they  chased  him  over  the  world,  and 
landed  him  in  the  penitentiary,  where  he  died.  That 
will  be  the  fate  of  some  of  these  trust  magnates.  The 
foundation  of  the  trust  is  corruption.  Its  trade  mark 
was  uttered  years  ago  by  a  great  railroad  man  who 

said,  '  The  public  be  d d.'     That  expression  is  in 

the  mind  of  every  man  connected  with  a  trust.  He 
turns  the  thumbscrews  on  the  public,  raises  prices, 
and  if  they  complain,  he  says,  '  What  are  you  going  to 
do  about  it  ? '  and  if  anybody  says  the  public  cannot 
stand  it,  they  say  '  the  public  be  blessed,'  or  the  other 
thing.  Now,  wait.  The  public  will  be  making  laws, 
and  the  first  law  that  is  made  will  be  one  that  sends 
a  man  to  the  penitentiary  who  robs  through  a  trust. 
If  three  men  combine  to  rob  it  is  a  conspiracy.  If  a 
hundred  or  a  thousand  combine  to  rob  seventy  mil 
lion  people,  it  is  treason.  You  wait,  boys,  and  you 
will  hear  a  noise  one  of  these  days  when  the  people 
speak,  and  you  will  hear  trust  magnates  who  fail  to 
get  across  the  ocean  before  the  tornado  of  public  in 
dignation  strikes,  begging  for  mercy.  Now,  gosh  blast 
you,  run  away.  You  have  got  me  to  talking  again," 
and  Uncle  Ike  lighted  his  pipe  and  shut  up  like  a 
clam,  while  the  boys  went  out  looking  for  trouble. 

Uncle  Ike  had  been  dozing  and  smoking,  and  fixing 
his  fishing  tackle,  and  oiling  his  gun,  and  whistling, 
and  trying  to  sing,  all  alone,  for  an  hour,  after  the 


124  Peck's  Undo  Ike 

boys  had  gone  out  to  have  fun,  and  when  he  saw  them 
coming  in  the  gate,  two  of  them  carrying  a  big  striped 
watermelon,  and  the  others  watching  that  it  did  not 
fall  on  the  ground,  he  was  rather  glad  the  boys  had 
come  back,  and  he  opened  the  door  and  went  out  on 
the  porch  and  met  them. 

"  S-h-h !"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  as  Uncle  Ike 
thumped  the  melon  with  his  hard  old  middle  ringer, 
to  see  if  it  was  ripe.  "  Don't  say  a  word.  Let's  get 
it  inside  the  house,  quick,  and  you  carve  it,  Uncle," 
and  they  brought  it  in  and  laid  it  on  the  table,  and 
the  boys  looked  down  tKe  street  as  though  they  were 
expecting  some  one. 

"  We  never  used  to  ask  any  questions  when  I  was 
a  boy,  when  a  melon  suddenly  showed  up,  and  nobody 
knew  from  whence  it  came,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he 
put  both  hands  on  the  melon  and  pressed  down  upon 
it,  and  listened  to  it  crack.  "  Do  you  know,  if  a  per 
son  takes  potatoes,  or  baled  hay,  that  does  not  belong 
to  him,  it  is  stealing,  but  if  a  melon  elopes  with  a  boy, 
or  several  boys,  the  melon  is  always  considered  guilty 
of  contributory  negligence,"  and  the  old  man  laughed 
and  winked  at  the  boys.  "  Bui.  a  house  is  no  place  to 
eat  a  melon  in,  and  a  knife  is  not  good  enough  to  cut 
a  melon.  Now,  you  fetch  that  melon  out  in  the  garden, 
by  the  cucumber  vines,  and  I  will  show  you  the  condi 
tions  that  should  surround  a  melon  barbecue,"  and  the 
old  man  led  the  way  to  the  garden,  followed  by  the 
boys,  and  he  got  them  seated  around  in  the  dirt,  with 
the  growing  corn  on  one  side,  a  patch  of  sunflowers 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  125 

on  another,  a  crabapple  tree  on  one  side,  giving  a  lit 
tle  shade  where  they  sat,  and  the  alley  fence  on  the 
other.  The  boys  were  anxious  to  begin,  and  each 
produced  a  toad-stabber,  but  Uncle  Ike  told  them  to 
put  away  the  knives,  and  said  : 

"  The  on-'y  way  to  eat  a  melon  is  to  break  it  by  put 
ting  your  kwee  on  it,  and  taking  the  chunks  and  run 
ning  your  f?ce  right  down  into  it.  A  nigger  is  the 
only  natura1  melon  eater.  There,"  said  he,  as  he 
crushed  the  brittle  melon  rind  into  a  dozen  pieces, 
and  spread  \t  open,  red,  and  juicy,  and  glorious. 
"  Now  'fall  in,'  as  we  used  to  say  in  the  army,"  and  the 
boys  each  gra  obed  a  piece  and  began  to  eat  and  drink 
out  of  the  rii  d,  the  juice  smearing  their  faces  and 
running  down  on  their  shirt  bosoms,  and  Uncle  Ike 
taking  a  piece  of  the  core  in  his  hands  and  trying  to 
eat  as  fast  as  the  boys  did,  the  red  and  sticky  juice 
trickling  through  his  fingers,  and  the  pulp  painting 
pictures  around  his  dear  old  mouth,  and  up  his  cheeks 
to  his  ears,  whi  e  he  tried  to  tell  them  of  a  day  during 
the  war  when  he  was  on  the  skirmish  line  going 
through  a  melcn  patch,  and  how  the  order  came  to 
lie  down,  and  svery  last  soldier  dropped  beside  a 
melon,  broke  it  with  his  bayonet,  and  filled  himself, 
while  the  bullet  whistled,  and  how  they  were  all  sick 
afterwards,  and  had  to  go  to  the  rear  because  the 
people  who  own  -d  the  melons  had  put  croton  oil  in 
them. 

"  Gosh,  but  I:'  is  is  great !  "  said  the  red-headed  boy, 
as  he  stopped  ting  long  enough  to  loosen  his  belt. 


,26  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

"You  bet!"  said  one  of  the  other  boys;  "Uncle 
Ike  is  a  James  dandy,"  and  he  looked  up  and  bowed 
to  a  boy  with  an  apron  on,  who  came  into  the  garden 
with  a  piece  of  paper  in  his  hand,  which  he  handed 
to  Uncle  Ike. 

"  What  is  this,  a  telegram  ? "  says  Uncle  Ike,  as  he 
takes  it  with  his  sticky  fingers  and  feels  for  his 
glasses. 

"No,  it  is  the  bill  for  the  melon — 50  cents,"  said 
the  grocer's  boy. 

"Bunkoed,  by  gosh!"  says  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  looks 
around  at  the  laughing  boys  who  have  played  it  on 
him. 

"Don't  ever  ask  where  a  melon  comes  from,"  said 
the  red-headed  boy. 

"Sawed  a  gold  brick  on  me,  you  young  bunko- 
steerers,"  says  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  wipes  his  hands  on 
some  mustard  and  feels  in  his  pocket  for  the  change ; 
"  but  it  was  worth  it,  by  ginger,"  and  he  pays  for  the 
melon,  they  all  go  in  the  house  and  wash  the  melon 
off  their  hands  and  faces,  the  old  man  lights  his  pipe 
and  says :  "  Boys,  come  around  here  to-morrow  and 
play  this  trick  on  Aunt  Almira,  and  I'll  set  up  the 
root  beer." 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  127 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  Say,  where  you  been  all  day  ?  "  asked  Uncle  Ike 
of  the  red-headed  boy,  as  he  showed  up  late  in  the 
atternoon,  chewing  a  gob  of  gum  so  big  that  it  made 
his  ear  ache.  "  Here,  I've  been  waiting  all  day  for 
you,  with  so  many  things  on  my  mind  to  tell  you  about 
that  I  have  had  to  make  memorandums,"  and  the  old 
man  took  out  his  knife  and  shaved  some  tobacco  off  a 
plug,  rolled  it  in  his  hands  and  scraped  it  into  the 
pipe,  and  lit  up  for  a  long  talk. 

"  I  been  working,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  took  some 
pieces  of  chocolate  out  of  his  pocket  and  offered  them 
to  his  uncle.  "I  am  working  for  a  syndicate,  and 
have  got  a  soft  snap,  with  all  the  money  I  can  spend," 
and  the  boy  shook  the  pennies  in  his  pocket  so  they 
sounded  like  emptying  a  collection  plate. 

"  Working  for  a  syndicate,  a-hem  !"  said  the  old  man. 
"  A  syndicate  is  a  great  thing,  if  you  are  the  syndi 
cate,  but  if  you  work  for  it  you  get  left,  that's  all. 
Now  tell  me  about  it.  What  you  doing  for  a  syndi 
cate,  and  who  furnishes  you  the  money  to  spend  ? 
Tell  me,  so  I  can  see  whether  it  is  honest.  Somehow 
I  can't  feel  that  a  syndicate  means  any  good  to  a  boy." 

"It  is  this  way,  Uncle  Ike,"  said  the  boy,  as  he 
threw  away  his  gum  and  took  another  stick  out  of  his 
pocket,  and  chewed  it  until  he  fairly  drooled,  "  you 
know  these  slot  machines  in  the  depots  and  hotels, 


12$  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

where  people  put  in  a  penny  and  pull  out  a  knob  and 
get  a  stick  of  gum  or  a  chocolate,  or  some  peppermint 
drops.  Well,  the  syndicate  wants  a  boy  to  go  around 
and  put  in  pennies,  and  get  the  prizes,  when  people 
are  looking  on,  so  as  to  get  them  interested,  so  they 
will  put  in  pennies,  see  ? " 

"  Sure !  You  are  a  sort  of  capper  for  a  gum  bunko 
game,  eh  ?  Rope  in  the  people  and  get  them  next  to 
a  good  thing,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  looking  at  the  boy 
over  his  glasses.  "  What  particular  talent  does  this 
new  business  bring  to  the  front  ?  Do  you  make 
speeches  to  the  people,  encouraging  them  to  invest 
their  hard-earned  pennies  in  your  great  scheme  for  the 
amelioration  of  the  condition  of  the  down-trodden,  or 
what  do  you  do  ?  Tell  me  how  the  thing  works." 

"  Why,  my  work  is  all  pantomime.  The  man  who 
hired  me  said  I  had  a  face  that  was  worth  a  fortune. 
I  go  up  to  a  slot  machine,  and  act  as  though  I  never 
saw  such  a  thing  before.  Then  I  monkey  around, 
and  seem  to  be  puzzled,  and  my  face  looks  serious, 
and  the  people  in  the  depot  waiting  for  trains  gather 
around  and  watch  me,  and  when  the  jays  are  all  ripe, 
ready  to  pick,  I  put  a  penny  in  the  slot,  draw  out  a 
stick  of  gum,  put  it  in  my  mouth,  and  then  I  smile 
one  of  those  broad  smiles,  like  this,  and  the  people 
begin  to  put  in  pennies,  and  they  surround  the  ma 
chine,  and  money  just  flows  in,  until  their  train  goes, 
when  another  crowd  comes  in  and  I  work  them  on  the 
chocolate  slot,  and  just  blow  in  pennies  belonging  to 
the  syndicate  that  owns  the  machines.  Oh,  it's  a  great 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy 

snap,  Uncle  Ike.  You  ought  to  go  into  it,"  and  the 
boy  threw  away  his  gum  and  went  to  eating  chocolate. 

"  Is  that  so  ?  My  face  would  be  my  fortune,  too, 
would  it  ?"  said  Uncle  Ike,  who  was  beginning  to 
show  that  he  was  mad.  "And  what  salary  does  the 
syndicate  pay  you  for  your  valuable  services  as  a  piece 
of  human  fly  paper  ?" 

"  O,  they  don't  pay  me  any  salary,"  said  the  boy, 
as  he  took  out  a  handful  of  syndicate  pennies  and 
poured  them  from  one  hand  into  another,  to  show  the 
old  man  that  he  had  wealth.  "  I  don't  ask  anything 
for  my  services.  I  just  get  pay  in  fun,  and  have  all 
the  gum,  and  chocolate,  and  lemon  drops  that  I  can 
eat.  The  man  told  me  it  would  be  an  experience  that 
would  be  valuable  to  me  in^after  life,  being  in  the 
eye  of  the  public,  leading  the  people.  He  said  this 
would  be  the  making  of  me,  and  open  up  a  career 
that  would  astonish  my  friends.  Don't  you  think  so, 
Uncle  ?  Can't  you  see  a  change  in  me  since  I  went 
to  work  for  the  syndicate  ?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  but  I  do,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as 
he  pondered  over  the  remarks  of  the  boy.  "  You  begin 
to  look  more  bilious,  probably  on  account  of  the  choco 
late  you  have  eaten,  to  deceive  the  people  at  the  depot 
into  the  idea  that  it  is  good  stuff.  And  perhaps  this 
experience  will  be  the  opening  of  a  career.  If  you  can, 
by  your  actions,  cause  strangers  to  run  up  against  a 
slot  machine,  I  don't  see  why  you  couldn't,  in  time, 
be  a  pretty  good  capper  for  a  three-card  monte  game, 
where  you  could  pick  out  the  right  card,  and  the  jay 


Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

loses  his  money.  If  this  is  the  kind  of  business  you 
have  selected  for  a  career,  it  will  not  be  long  before 
you  will  be  in  demand  as  a  bunko-steerer.  You  would 
be  invaluable,  with  that  innocent  face  of  yours,  in 
roping  in  strangers  to  a  robbers'  roost,  where  they 
would  be  fleeced  and  thrown  down  stairs  on  their  necks. 
With  about  two  days  more  experience  on  a  slot  ma 
chine,  some  gold-brick  swindler  will  come  along  and. 
raise  the  syndicate  out  on  your  salary,  and  put  you  on 
the  road  selling  gold  bricks.  Starting  in  business  as 
a  fakir,  you  will  rise  to  become  a  barker  for  a  side 
show,  graduate  into  bunko  and  gold  bricks,  and  if  you 
are  not  sent  to  the  penitentiary,  there  is  a  great  open 
ing  for  you  as  a  promoter  of  a  trust  in  the  air  we 
breathe.  We  shall  have  to  part  company.  My  repu 
tation  is  dear  to  me.  I  have  never  turned  a  jack  from 
the  bottom  when  I  had  one  to  go  in  seven-up,  and  to 
associate  with  a  boy  who  will  rope  people  to  buy 
mouldy  gum,  and  be  an  advance  agent  of  prosperity  as 
recorded  on  a  slot  machine,  is  too  much,  and  I  bid  you 
good-bye.  I  have  loved  you,  but  it  was  because  you 
were  innocent  and  tried  to  do  the  fair  thing,  but — 
good-bye,"  and  the  old  man  laid  down  his  pipe,  picked 
up  his  hat  and  started  for  the  door. 

"  Hold  on,  Uncle  Ike,"  said  the  boy,  taking  the 
handful  of  pennies  out  of  his  pocket  and  laying  them 
on  the  table,  "  I  didn't  know  it  was  so  bad.  I  won't 
do  it  any  more.  Come  back,  please." 

"  Well,  I  got  to  go  downtown,"  said  the  old  man, 
"and  I  will  be  back  in  an  hour.  In  the  meantime 


••  Been  trying  to  smoke  the  old  man's  pipe,  eh  ? 


132  Peck's   Uncle  Ike 

you  write  out  a  letter  of  resignation  to  the  syndicate. 
Say  that  you  find  a  diet  of  decayed  chocolate  and 
glucose  candy  is  sapping  the  foundation  of  your  man 
hood,  and  that  your  Uncle  Ike  has  offered  you  a  posi 
tion  on  the  staff  of  a  gold-brick  syndicate,"  and  the 
old  man  went  out,  leaving  the  boy  to  write  his 
resignation. 

"  Well,  how  is  my  decoy  duck,  and  has  he  sent  in 
his  resignation  ? "  said  the  old  man,  as  he  came  in  a 
little  later  and  found  writing  material  and  pennies  on 
the  table,  and  the  boy  lying  on  the  lounge  looking  pale 
and  sick.  "What  is  this*?  Sick  the  first  time  you  have 
to  resign  an  office  ?  That  won't  do.  You  never  will 
make  a  politician  if  you  can't  write  out  a  resignation 
without  having  it  go  to  your  head,"  and  the  old  man 
sat  down  by  the  boy  and  found  that  he  was  as  sick  as 
a  horse,  his  face  white,  and  cold  perspiration  on  his 
upper  lip  among  the  red  hairs,  and  on  his  brow  among 
the  freckles.  The  boy's  bosom  was  heaving,  and  his 
stomach  was  clearly  the  seat  of  the  disease,  and  sud 
denly  the  boy  rushed  out  of  the  room,  into  the  bath 
room,  and  there  was  a  noise  such  as  is  frequently 
heard  on  steamboat  excursions.  The  old  man  thought 
it  was  the  chocolate  and  gum  that  had  made  the  boy 
sick,  until  he  looked  at  his  pipe  on  the  table,  which 
was  smoking,  although  he  had  been  away  an  hour  or 
more. 

"  Been  trying  to  smoke  the  old  man's  pipe,  eh  ? " 
said  he,  as  the  boy  staggered  out  of  the  bathroom  so 
weak  he  could  hardly  stand.  "  Well,  that  plug  tobacco 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  133 

in  the  pipe  is  a  little  strong  for  a  bunko-steerer,  but  I 
suppose  you  thought  if  you  were  going  to  be  a  busi 
ness  man,  and  leave  me,  you  ought  to  take  with  you 
some  of  my  bad  habits.  Let  me  fill  the  pipe  with 
some  of  this  mild  switchman's  delight,  and  you  try 
that,"  and  he  brought  the  pipe  near  to  the  boy. 

"Take  it  away,  take  it  away,"  said  a  weak  voice, 
coming  from  under  a  pillow  on  the  lounge.  "Oh, 
Uncle  Ike,  I  will  never  touch  a  pipe  again.  You  look 
so  happy  when  you  are  smoking  that  I  thought  I 
would  like  to  learn,  so  I  lit  the  pipe,  and  drew  on  it, 
and  the  smoke  wouldn't  come,  and  I  drew  in  my 
breath  whole  length,  as  I  do  when  I  dive  off  a  spring 
board,  and  the  whole  inside  of  the  pipe  came  into  my 
mouth,  and  I  swallowed  the  whole  business,  and 
pretty  soon  it  felt  as  though  a  pin-wheel  had  been 
touched  off  inside  of  me,  and  the  sparks  flew  out  of 
my  nose,  and  the  smoke  came  out  of  my  ears,  and 
they  turned  on  the  water  in  my  eyes,  and  my  mouth 
puckered  up  and  acted  salivated,  like  I  had  eaten 
choke-cherries,  and  pretty  soon  the  pin-wheel  in  my 
stomach  began  to  run  down,  and  I  thought  I  was 
going  to  stop  celebrating,  when  the  pin-wheel  seemed 
to  touch  off  a  nigger-chaser,  and  it  went  to  fizzing  all 
around  inside  of  me,  up  into  my  lungs,  and  down 
around  my  liver,  and  it  called  at  all  my  vital  parts  and 
registered  its  name,  and  when  the  nigger-chaser 
seemed  to  be  dying  it  touched  off  an  internal  sky 
rocket,  and  s-i-z-boom — that  was  when  I  went  in  the 
bathroom,  'cause  I  was  afraid  of  the  stick.  Say, 


Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

Uncle  Ike,  does  anyone  ever  die  from  smoking  plug 
tobacco  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  about  half  of  them  die,  when  they  smoke 
it  the  first  time.  When  their  eyes  roll  up,  like  yours, 
and  they  cease  to  be  hungry,  and  feel  as  though  they 
had  rather  lie  down  than  stand  up,  they  don't  last 
very  long,"  and  the  old  man  looked  serious,  and 
reached  for  his  pipe  and  a  match,  and  said : "  Any  last 
message  you  want  to  send  to  anybody  ;  any  touching 
good-bye  ?  If  you  do,  whisper  it  to  me,  and  I  will 
write  your  dying  statement." 

"  Don't  light  that  dum  pipe !"  said  the  boy,  rolling 
over  and  looking  like  a  seasick  ghost,  as  Uncle  Ike 
was  about  to  scratch  a  match  on  his  trousers. 
"  Here  is  the  address  of  my  girl.  Write  to  her  that 
I  am  dead.  That  I  died  thinking  of  her,  and  smell 
ing  of  plug  tobacco.  Put  it  in  that  I  died  of  appen 
dicitis,  or  something  fashionable,  and  say  that  eight 
doctors  performed  eight  operations  on  me,  but  perito 
nitis  had  set  in,  and  there  was  no  use,  but  that  they 
cut  a  swath  in  me  big  enough  to  drive  an  automobile 
through.  I  had  rather  she  would  think  of  me  as  dy 
ing  a  heroic  death,  than  dying  smoking  plug  tobacco. 
And,  say,  Uncle  Ike,  after  you  have  written  her,  don't 
make  a  mistake  and  send  my  resignation  to  the  syn 
dicate  to  her.  O,  God !  but  it  is  hard  to  die  so  young," 
and  the  boy  went  to  sleep  on  the  lounge,  and  Uncle 
Ike  went  to  taking  the  kinks  out  of  a  fish  line,  know 
ing  that  when  the  boy  woke  up  he  wouldn't  be  dead 
worth  a  cent.  About  half  an  hour  later  the  boy 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  135 

roiled  over,  opened  his  big  eyes,  sat  up,  and  stared 
around,  and  Uncle  Ike  said  : 

"  Now,  you  go  in  the  bath-room  and  wash  your  face 
in  cold  water,  and  you  will  be  all  right,"  and  the  boy 
did  so,  and  came  back  with  almost  a  smile  on  his 
face,  and  he  looked  at  the  papers  on  the  table, 
and  said : 

"  Uncle  Ike,  you  didn't  send  that  appendicitis  story 
to  my  girl,  did  you  ?  Gosh,  but  I  am  all  right  now, 
and  I  am  not  going  to  die." 

"  No,  I  didn't  send  it ;  but  next  time  I  will,  by 
ginger,"  and  the  old  man  laughed.  "  Here,  have  a 
smoke  on  me,"  but  the  boy  went  out  in  the  open  air 
and  kicked  himself. 


136  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

It  was  a  beautiful,  hot,  sunny  morning,  and  after 
breakfast  Uncle  Ike  came  out  on  the  porch  in  his 
shirt  sleeves,  and  with  a  pair  of  old  hunting  shoes  on, 
and  his  shirt  sleeves  rolled  up,  showing  the  sleeves  of 
a  red  flannel  undershirt,  a  kind  he  always  wore,  win 
ter  and  summer.  He  leaned  against  the  post  of  the 
porch,  lit  his  pipe,  and  looked  away  toward  the  hazy, 
hot  horizon,  and  thought  of  old  days  that  had  been 
brought  to  his  mind  the  day  before,  when  he  saw  the 
parade  of  a  Wild  West  show.  The  old  man  was  a 
*49er,  who  went  across  the  plains  for  gold  when  the 
country  was  young,  and  the  yells  of  the  Indians  had 
made  him  nervous,  as  they  did  half  a  century  ago. 
He  had  staked  the  red-headed  boy  and  several  of  his 
chums  to  go  to  the  show,  and  was  waiting  for  them 
to  show  up  and  report.  He  stepped  down  on  the 
lawn  and  took  up  the  nozzle  of  a  sprinkler  and  turned 
it  on  a  lilac  bush,  when  suddenly  there  was  a  yell  that 
was  unmistakably  that  of  a  Comanche  Indian ;  and 
he  stopped  and  looked  at  the  bush,  and  could  plainly 
see  a  moccasin  and  a  leg  with  buckskin  fringe  on  it, 
and  he  knew  the  boys  were  laying  for  him,  to  scalp 
him  and  have  fun  with  him  ;  so  he  held  the  nozzle  as 
his  only  protection  against  the  bloodthirsty  band  of 
savages,  headed  by  Chief  Red  Head,  his  nephew,  but 
a  bad  Indian  when  off  the  reservation.  From  behind 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  137 

an  evergreen  tree  down  by  the  gate  there  came  a 
blood-curdling  yell,  which  was  evidently  from  the 
throat  of  "  Watermelon  Jim,"  a  neighbor's  boy,  while 
from  the  wild  cucumber  vine  on  the  south  porch  came 
a  noise  like  that  of  a  pack  of  wolves  breakfasting  on 
a  fawn. 

"  Surrender  !  "  shouted  a  damp  voice  from  behind 
the  lilac  bush,  where  the  hose  was  turned.  "  Sur 
render,  or  we  burn  down  your  ranch  over  your  head!" 
and  a  painted  Indian,  with  red,  short  hair  showing 
under  the  feather,  crawled  toward  a  rosebush,  where 
it  was  dry. 

"  Never !"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  bit  the  stem  of  his 
pipe,  and  smiled  at  the  boys  who  were  peeking  out 
from  behind  the  different  hiding  places.  "  Your 
Uncle  Ike  often  dies,  but  he  never  surrenders,"  and 
he  cocked  the  nozzle  of  the  lawn  sprinkler,  and  stood 
ready  for  the  attack. 

The  red-headed  Indian  lit  a  parlor  match  and  held 
it  aloft,  which  was  apparently  a  smoke  signal,  for  an 
Indian  behind  the  porch  appeared  and  suddenly  a 
swish  was  heard  in  the  air,  and  a  piece  of  clothesline 
with  a  noose  in  it  came  near  going  over  Uncle  Ike's 
head ;  so  near  that  it  broke  his  clay  pipe,  leaving  the 
stem  between  his  lips. 

"  Ah,  ha !  You  will,  will  you  ?  Vamoose  !"  said 
Uncle  Ike,  as  he  turned  the  hose  on  the  Indian  with 
the  lasso,  and  drove  him  behind  the  porch  with  water 
dripping  clown  his  calico  shirt,. taking  the  color  out. 
Then  an  Indian  near  the  gate  began  to  fire  blank 


138  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

cartridges  with  a  toy  pistol  and  Uncle  Ike  put  his 
elbow  up  in  front  of  his  face,  as  he  said  afterward,  to 
save  his  beauty,  and  Uncle  Ike  started  toward  that 
Indian,  dragging  the  hose,  and  shouting,  "Take  to 
the  chaparral,  condemn  you,  or  I  will  drown  you  out 
like  a  gopher!" 

For  a  moment  there  was  an  ominous  silence.  The 
Indians  had  withdrawn  behind  the  currant  bushes, 
but  Uncle  Ike  knew  enough  of  Indian  warfare  to 
know  that  the  silence  was  only  temporary.  Suddenly 
there  was  a  blazing  and  crackling,  and  a  big  smoke 
from  the  back  of  the  house,  and  it  seemed  the  red 
skins  had  set  fire  to  the  house,  the  hired  girl  yelled 
fire  and  murder,  and  came  out  with  a  pail  of  water, 
while  the  chief  yelled  "Charge !"  and  in  a  minute  Uncle 
Ike  was  surrounded  by  the  tribe,  his  legs  tied  with 
the  clothesline,  though  he  fought  with  the  garden 
hose  until  there  was  not  a  dry  rag  on  one  of  the  boys 
or  himself. 

"Burn  him  at  the  stake!"  shouted  a  little  shrimp 
who  carries  papers  every  afternoon,  after  school,  as 
he  wiped  the  red  paint  off  his  cheek  on  to  his  bare 
arm,  and  shook  water  out  of  his  trousers  leg. 

"  No,  let's  hold  him  for  a  ransom,"  said  the  red 
headed  boy.  "Aunt  Almira  will  give  us  enough  to 
buy  a  melon,  and  make  us  a  pail  of  lemonade,  if  we 
let  this  gray-haired  old  settler  off  without  scalp 
ing  him." 

"  Chief,  spare  me,  please,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he 
sat  up  in  a  puddle  of  water  on  the  battle  ground,  with 


"Take  to  the  chaparral,  conden-.n  you,  or  I  will  drown  you  out 
like  a  gopher!  " 

139 


140  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

his  legs  tied.  "I  am  the  mother  of  eleven  orphan 
children.  O,  spare  me  !  and  don't  walk  on  that  pipe 
of  mine  on  the  grass  there,  with  your  moccasins.  I 
will  compromise  this  thing  myself,  and  pay  the  ran 
som.  Here  is  a  dollar.  Go  and  buy  melons,  and  we 
will  have  a  big  feed  right  here.  But  what  was  the 
fire  behind  the  house,  and  is  it  put  out  ?" 

"The  ransom  is  agreed  to,"  said  the  red-headed 
boy,  as  he  took  off  his  string  of  feathers,  and  gave  a 
yell,  hitting  his  lips  with  the  back  of  his  hand  so  it 
would  "gargle,"  "and  the  fire  is  out.  We  put  some 
kerosene  on  an  empty  beer  case,  that  was  all."  So 
Uncle  Ike  handed  over  the  dollar,  and  was  released, 
while  a  boy  who  had  washed  his  paint  off  was  sent  to 
a  grocery  after  a  melon.  Then  they  wiped  the  mud 
off  Uncle  Ike,  and  all  went  upon  the  porch,  a  new 
pipe  of  peace  was  provided,  and  they  talked  about  the 
Wild  West  show  of  the  night  before,  while  Uncle 
Ike  did  the  most  of  the  smoking  of  the  pipe  of  peace, 
though  he  wiped  the  stem  once  and  handed  it  to  the 
red-headed  chief  to  take  a  whiff,  but  the  chief,  after 
his  experience  with  plug  tobacco  cholera  a  few  days 
before,  declined  with  thanks. 

"  What  interested  you  most  at  the  show  ?"  said 
Uncle  Ike,  puffing  away,  as  he  sat  on  the  floor  of  the 
porch,  and  leaned  his  back  against  one  of  the  posts. 
"  When  you  go  to  a  show  you  always  want  to  get 
your  mind  on  something  that  makes  an  impression 
on  you." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  boy  who  had  worked  the  lasso 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  141 

on  Uncle  Ike,  "  the  way  these  Mexicans  handled  the 
lariat  struck  me  the  hardest,  only  they  look  so  darned 
lazy.  They  just  wait  for  a  horse  to  get  in  the  right 
place,  and  then  pull  up.  I  would  like  to  see  them 
chase  something,  and  catch  it  by  the  leg,  that  was 
trying  to  get  away.  But  the  Cossacks !  O,  my ! 
couldn't  they  ride,  standing  up,  or  dragging  on  the 
ground  with  one  foot  in  the  stirrup.  Gosh !  if  Russia 
turned  about  a  million  of  those  Cossacks  loose  on 
China,  they  wouldn't  do  a  thing  to  John  Chinaman." 

"The  Indians  got  me,"  said  another  boy,  as  he 
took  off  a  moccasin  and  hung  it  up  in  the  sun  to  dry, 
after  his  fight  to  the  death  with  Uncle  Ike's  water 
works.  "  I  would  like  to  be  an  Indian,  or  a  squaw, 
and  never  have  anything  to  do  but  travel  with  a  show, 
and  yell.  They  just  have  a  soft  snap,  dressing  up  in 
feathers,  and  paint,  and  buckskin,  and  living  on  the 
fat  of  the  land,  and  yelling  ki-yi !  in  a  falsetto  voice." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  red-headed  boy, 
"  what  struck  me  as  the  most  exciting  was  the  battle 
of  San  Juan  hill.  Say,  did  you  see  our  boys  just 
walk  right  up  to  the  Spaniards,  in  the  face  of  a  per 
fect  hailstorm  of  blank  cartridges,  with  a  gatling  gun 
stuttering  smokeless  powder,  and  the  boys  in  blue  fir 
ing  volleys,  and  the  rough  riders  walking  on  foot,  and 
the  Spaniards  just  falling  back,  and  pretty  soon  we 
went  right  over  them,  and  doun  came  the  Spanish 
flag,  and  then  the  Stars  and  Stripes  went  up,  and 
there  was  where  I  yelled  so  the  roof  ripped.  But 
what  made  me  cry  was  to  see  Old  Glory  and  the. 


142  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

British  flag  get  together,  every  little  while,  and  float 
side  by  side,  and  seem  to  be  grown  together  as  one 
flag,  and  everybody  seemed  glad.  What  you  think 
about  things,  Uncle  Ike  ?  Don't  sit  there  and  smoke 
up,  all  the  time,  but  tell  us  what  you  think  about  the 
American  and  British  flags  waving  together  so  much 
lately.  Are  you  in  favor  of  an  alliance?  Do  you 
want  to  be  an  assistant  Englishman,  Uncle  Ike  ?" 

"Well,  I  don't  want  to  be  quoted  much  on  this 
business,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  looked  around  at  the 
boys,  who  were  listening  intently.  "  I  have  watched 
the  course  of  England  and  all  the  countries,  for  over 
fifty  years,  in  their  relations  with  this  country,  and 
the  only  friendship  England  ever  showed  to  us  was  in 
the  last  war.  They  did  us  good,  no  doubt,  and  I  trust 
I  am  grateful,  as  becomes  a  good  citizen.  It  was  like 
a  big  boy  and  little  boy  fighting.  The  big  boy  can 
whip  if  he  is  not  interfered  with,  but  a  lot  of  boys  are 
standing  around,  ready  to  mix  in  to  help  the  little  fel 
low.  They  are  ready  to  trip  up  the  big  fellow,  so  the 
little  one  can  jump  on  him,  and  they  are  getting 
ready  to  throw  stones  at  him,  and  kick  him  on  the 
shins.  Then  a  big  bully  that  they  are  all  afraid  to 
tackle,  comes  along  and  says :  '  This  little  fellow 
picked  on  the  big  fellow,  and  kept  nagging  him  till  he 
had  to  fight  or  run.  Now  the  little  fool  has  got  to 
take  his  medicine,  and  you  fellows  mustn't  mix  in,  or 
you  got  me  to  fight.  Just  keep  hands  off,  that's  all.' 
That's  all  there  was  to  it,  but  it  came  in  mighty 
handy,  and  we  appreciate  it,  but  there  is  too  much 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  143 

grand  stand  play  about  an  alliance.  In  other  wars 
wi^h  England,  Germans  and  French  and  Poles  have 
fought  with  us,  and  for  us,  and  yet  we  have  never  felt 
like  having  an  alliance  with  them.  Do  you  ever  take 
much  stock  in  Russia,  boys?  Don't  ever  forget 
Russia.  During  our  war  between  the  North  and 
South,  we  were  once  in  a  tight  place.  England  and 
other  countries  were  about  to  recognize  the  Southern 
Confederacy,  and  England  was  doing  everything  pos 
sible  to  break  us  up,  furnishing  privateers,  and  har 
boring  confederate  gunboats,  and  making  it  warm  for 
us.  Boys,  your  Uncle  Abraham  Lincoln  was  perspir 
ing  a  good  deal  those  days.  They  say  he  couldn't  wear 
a  collar,  he  sweat  so.  It  was  believed  that  England 
and  several  other  countries  were  going  to  simultane 
ously  recognize  the  Confederacy,  and  maybe  turn  in  and 
fight  us.  Warships  from  other  countries  were  hover 
ing  around  our  southern  coast,  and  our  soldiers  were 
feeling  pretty  blue,  the  cabinet  never  smiled,  and  no 
body  laughed  out  loud  except  Uncle  Abe,  and  even 
his  laugh  seemed  to  have  a  hollow,  croupy  sound. 
One  day,  when  the  strain  was  the  greatest,  and  every 
body  felt  as  though  there  was  a  funeral  in  the  family, 
and  there  were  funerals  in  most  families,  a  flock  of 
warships  flying  the  flag  of  Russia,  steamed  by  Sandy 
Hook,  and  up  to  New  York,  saluted  the  forts  and  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  all  along  up  to  the  Battery.  It 
seemed  as  though  those  battleships  never  would  stop 
coming.  They  lined  up  all  around  New  York,  and 
their  guns  pointed  toward  the  sea,  and  every  Russian 


144  Pedc's  Uncle  Ike 

on  board  acted  as  though  he  was  loaded  for  bear.  The 
news  went  to  Washington  that  night,  and  they  say 
Uncle  Abe  had  night  sweats.  The  next  morning  a 
Russian  admiral,  who  had  gone  over  to  Washington 
on  a  night  train,  called  to  pay  his  respects  to  the 
President,  and  presented  him  with  a  document  in  the 
Russian  language,  which  had  to  be  interpreted  by  the 
Russian  minister.  When  it  was  interpreted  they  say 
old  Abe  danced  a  highland  fling,  and  hugged  the  Rus 
sians  and  danced  all  hands  around.  That  document 
has  never  been  published,  but  it  was  to  the  effect  that 
the  Russian  fleet  was  at  the  disposal  of  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  to  fight  any  country  on  the  face 
of  God's  green  earth  that  attempted  to  mix  in.  See  ? 
It  was  not  long  before  other  nations  discovered  that 
Russia  had  sent  her  fleet  to  stay,  and  every  Russian 
on  every  vessel  acted  as  though  he  was  spoiling  for  a 
fight,  and  seemed  to  say  to  the  world,  '  Come  on, 
condemn  you ! '  And  nobody  ever  came  along  to 
fight.  And  Uncle  Abe  began  to  be  in  a  laughing 
mood,  and  you  know  the  rest,  if  you  have  read  up 
about  the  war.  Nobody  has  ever  suggested  an  alli 
ance  with  Russia,  and  yet  we  are  under  more  obliga 
tions  to  that  old  Czar  than  to  anybody.  In  fact,  we 
don't  want  an  alliance  with  anybody.  We  want  the 
friendship  of  all.  If  I  have  any  more  love  for  one 
country  than  another,  I  do  not  know  which  it  is,  only 
when  I  see  a  Russian,  even  one  of  those  Cossacks 
that  rode  so  well,  I  feel  like  taking  him  by  the  hand 
and  telling  him,  when  he  goes  home,  to  go  up  to  the 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  145 

Winter  palace  and  give  my  love  to  the  Czar,  because 
I  always  have  before  me  the  picture  of  that  Russian 
fleet  in  New  York  harbor,  when  things  were  hot. 
England  has  done  a  similar  favor  during  this  last  war, 
and  if  we  had  another  war,  and  the  newspapers  would 
quit  nagging  him,  you  would  find  the  young  emperor 
of  Germany  doing  something  for  us  equally  as  good. 
So,  boys,  don't  get  stuck  on  one  country,  but  give 
them  all  a  chance  to  be  good  to  us." 

"Gosh,  Uncle  Ike,  I  never  heard  anything  about 
that  Russian  fleet,"  said  the  red-headed  boy.  "Eng 
land  can  go  plum  to  thunder.  I  thought  England 
was  the  only  country  that  was  ever  even  polite  to  us." 

"  Come  on,  boys,  let's  go  and  play  Cossack,"  said 
one  of  the  Indians,  and  they  went  rolling  over  the 
picket  fence  on  their  stomachs,  leaving  Uncle  Ike 
to  go  and  put  on  some  dry  clothes. 


146  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Uncle  Ike  had  been  having  twinges  of  rheumatism 
in  one  of  his  legs  ever  since  he  had  the  scrap  with  the 
Indians,  and  turned  the  hose  on  them  and  got  wet 
himself,  and  he  sat  out  on  the  porch  one  morning  with 
a  blanket  over  his  leg  trying  to  warm  it  up,  smoking 
his  pipe  in  silence,  and  wondering  why  the  good  Lord 
arranged  things  so  a  good  man  should  grow  old,  and 
have  pains.  The  red-headed  boy  and  quite  a  flock  of 
kids  of  about  his  age  were  sitting  on  the  sidewalk,  out 
side  the  fence,  arguing  something  in  loud  voices,  and 
finally  he  heard  them  agree  to  leave  it  to  Uncle  Ike, 
and  then  they  piled  over  the  fence  and  came  up  to  the 
porch,  and  the  red-headed  boy  was  the  spokesman. 
He  said : 

"  Say,  Uncle  Ike,  us  boys  have  got  a  bet  and  you 
are  to  decide  it.  Isn't  it  true  that  the  people  of  Cuba, 
Porto  Rico  and  the  Philippines  are  gamblers,  and 
hasn't  our  government  fought  them  to  a  standstill  to 
send  people  there  to  induce  them  to  stop  gambling 
and  to  attend  to  business  ?  Isn't  gambling  a  sin,  and 
is  it  not  our  duty  as  a  nation,  to  teach  these  ignorant 
people  the  wickedness  of  gambling,  bull  fighting,  cock 
fighting,  and  all  that  ? "  and  the  boys  sat  all  around 
Uncle  Ike,  waiting  for  a  decision  to  be  handed  down, 
as  they  say  in  court. 

The  old  man  rapped  the  bowl  of  his  pipe  on  the  arm 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  147 

of  the  rocking  chair,  blew  through  the  stem,  made  up 
a  face  when  he  got  some  of  the  nicotine  on  his  tongue, 
took  a  piece  off  the  broom  and  run  through  it,  blew 
again,  reached  for  the  tobacco  bag,  filled  it  up,  lighted 
it,  smoked  a  minute  or  two  in  silence,  while  five  pairs 
of  big  boys'  eyes  watched  him  as  though.he  was  a  chief 
justice.  He  wiggled  around  a  little,  to  ease  his  leg, 
knitted  his  brow  as  the  pain  shot  through  his  leg,  al 
most  said  damn  ;  then  the  pain  let  up,  his  face  cleared 
off,  a  smile  came  over  it,  he  looked  at  the  little  states 
men  around  him,  and  finally  said : 

"  Well,  boys,  you  must  not  grow  up  with  the  idea 
that  our  own  beloved  country  has  no  faults.  Just 
love  it,  with  all  its  faults ;  fight  for  it,  if  necessary, 
but  don't  get  daffy  over  it.  In  the  countries  you 
speak  of,  everybody  gambles  more  or  less.  In  this 
country  only  a  small  proportion  gamble,  and  yet  the 
element  of  chance  is  something  that  is  very  attractive 
to  most  people  here  at  home.  The  other  evening 
your  Aunt  Almira  brought  home  a  beautiful  goblet 
she  won  at  a  progressive  euchre  party  of  neighbors. 
How  much  more  of  a  sin  is  it  for  the  Cuban  woman 
to  win  five  dollars  at  monte,  and  buy  a  goblet  ?  It  is 
scarcely  three  years  since  tickets  in  Havana  lotteries 
were  publicly  sold  in  this  country.  There  is  more 
money  lost  and  won  on  draw  poker  in  one  day  in  New 
York  than  is  lost  and  won  in  Havana  on  monte  and 
roulette.  You  can  find  almost  any  gambling  game  in 
Chicago  or  Milwaukee  that  you  can  find  in  the  Phil 
ippines  ;  and  while  we  do  not  have  bull  fighting,  we 


148  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

have  prize  fighting  every  night  in  the  week,  far  more 
brutal.  It  is  the  gambling  instinct  in  men  and  women 
that  keeps  the  stock  exchanges  going,  and  indus 
trial  stocks,  manipulated  by  those  who  control  the 
prices,  is  tinhorn  gambling,  as  much  as  pulling  faro 
cards  from  a  silver  box  in  a  brace  game,  where  the 
dealer  gets  a  rake-off,  the  same  as  the  commission 
man,  who  deals  the  cards  in  stock  or  wheat.  I  don't 
know  whether  it  is  the  object  of  our  government  to 
attempt  to  show  the  people  of  these  new  possessions 
the  wickedness  of  gambling,  and  cock  fighting,  and 
all  that ;  but  if  it  is,  thousands  of  men  who  have  be 
come  bankrupt  from  gambling  here  at  home  could  be 
sent  there  as  object  lessons ;  but  the  chances  are  they 
would  put  up  a  job  to  skin  the  natives  out  of  their 
last  dollar  on  some  game  they  did  not  understand. 
If  gambling  is  a  sin,  let  he  who  is  without  sin  throw 
the  first  stone  into  a  Porto  Rican  cock  fight.  Let 
the  senator  who  never  played  draw  poker  be  the  first 
to  introduce  a  resolution  to  stop  gambling  in  Manila. 
Let  the  army  general  that  never  sat  up  all  night  at  a 
faro  bank  issue  the  first  order  against  monte  and  rou 
lette  in  Havana.  Let  the  men  who  furnished  em 
balmed  beef  for  widows'  sons,  issue  edicts  against 
making  fresh  meat  out  of  live  bulls.  I  can't  decide 
your  bet.  You  better  call  it  a  draw,"  and  the  old 
man  looked  at  the  boys  as  though  he  wanted  to  change 
the  subject. 

"  Say,  boys,  Uncle  Ike  knows  more  than  any  man 
in  the  world,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  "  but  he  argues 


"  I  can't  decide  your  bet.      You  better  call  it  a  draw," 
149 


150  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

too  much.  Let's  go  and  play  shinny  and  call  it  golf," 
and  they  went  off  on  a  gallop,  leaving  Uncle  Ike  with 
his  lame  leg  and  his  pipe. 

Uncle  Ike  sat  and  thought  for  an  hour  or  more,  on 
the  porch,  occasionally  moving  his  rheumatic  leg  so  it 
hurt  him  worse  than  it  did  before  he  moved  it,  and  then 
he  wondered  what  in  the  deuce  he  had  moved  it  for. 
He  thought  of  his  experience  as  a  gambler,  since  the 
boys  had  talked  about  gambling.  He  thought  of  the 
time  he  went  to  a  State  fair,  when  he  was  a  boy,  right 
fresh  off  the  farm,  with  his  white  shirt  his  mother  had 
sat  up  the  night  before  to  iron  for  him,  his  ready- 
made  black  frock-coat  that  the  sun  had  faded  out  on 
the  shoulders,  the  old  brown  slouch  hat  he  had  traded 
another  one  for  with  a  lightning  rod  peddler,  his  shoes 
blacked  with  stove  blacking,  instead  of  being  greased, 
as  usual.  He  thought  how  a  gambler  at  the  State 
fair  picked  him  out  for  a  greeny  before  he  had  fairly 
got  Through  the  gate,  and  wondered  how  the  gambler 
could  have  known  he  was  so  green  without  being  told, 
and  yet  he  carried  a  sign  of  greenness,  from  the  faded 
and  sunburned  hair  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his 
stove-blacking  shoes.  He  thought  how  the  gambler 
got  him  to  bet  that  he  could  find  the  pea  in  the  shell, 
and  how  he  had  been  so  confident  that  he  could  find 
it  that  he  had  bet  his  whole  month's  wages,  and  when 
the  gambler  had  taken  it,  and  wound  it  around  a  wad 
he  had,  and  put  it  in  his  vest  pocket,  he  remembered, 
here  sitting  on  the  porch  with  his  rheumatic  leg,  how 
mad  he  was  when  the  gambler  who  had  ruined  him, 


the  Red-headed  Boy  151 

shouted,  "  Next  gentleman,  now !  Roll  up,  tumble  up, 
any  way  to  get  up ! "  As  he  sat  there  waiting  for  the 
boys  to  come  back  and  be  company  for  him,  he 
thought  how  destitute  he  was  when  the  gambler  had 
taken  his  money,  how  he  was  twenty  miles  from 
home,  with  only  20  cents  in  his  pocket,  and  he  sat 
down  on  a  chicken  coop,  and  ate  10  cents'  worth  of 
the  hardest-hearted  pie  that  ever  was,  and  the  tears 
came  to  his  eyes,  and  the  great  crowd  at  the  fair  all 
mixed  up  with  the  horses  and  cattle,  and  he  wan 
dered  about  like  a  crazy  person,  all  the  afternoon,  and 
at  night  started  to  walk  home,  with  the  balance  of 
his  wealth  invested  in  gingerbread  that  stuck  in  his 
throat  as  he  walked  along  the  road  in  the  dust,  and 
he  drank  at  all  the  wells  he  passed,  until  before  he 
got  home  the  peaches  he  had  eaten  before  he  gam 
bled,  combined  with  the  corrugated  iron  pie,  and  the 
gingerbread  and  the  various  waters,  gave  him  a  case 
of  cholera  morbus  big  enough  for  a  grown  person,  and 
when  he  got  home  along  toward  morning  he  wanted 
to  die,  and  rather  thought  he  would.  Then  he  began 
to  wonder  if  that  gambler  ever  prospered,  and  whether 
he  wound  up  his  career  in  the  penitentiary,  or  in 
politics,  when  he  saw  a  big  dust  down  the  road, 
where  the  boys  had  gone,  and  presently  the  whole 
crowd  came  on  a  run,  barefooted,  and  the  first  to 
arrive  hit  Uncle  Ike  on  the  arm  and  said,  "Tag; 
you're  it,"  and  they  all  laid  down  on  the  grass  and 
oanted,  and  accused  each  other  of  shoving,  and  not 
running  fair.  After  they  had  got  so  they  could 


152  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

breathe  easy,  and  each  had  taken  a  lot  of  green 
apples  out  of  his  shirt,  and  were  biting  into  them  and 
looking  sorry  they  did  so,  the  red-headed  boy  said  : 

"  Uncle  Ike,  we  have  been  talking  it  over,  and  have 
decided  that  some  day  you  are  to  take  us  down  to 
Pullman,  the  town  founded  by  George  Pullman.  We 
have  read  a  book  about  the  town,  and  all  about  the 
philanthropist  who  laid  it  out,  and  made  a  little  Uto 
pia — I  think  that's  the  word — for  the  laboring  men 
in  his  employ,  where  they  have  little  brick  houses 
made  to  fit  a  family,  with  gas  and  water.  The  book 
says  he  was  a  regular  father  to  them,  and  we  want  to 
see  a  place  where  everybody  is  happy  and  contented. 
Will  you  take  us  there  some  time,  Uncle  Ike  ?  Isn't 
Pullman  the  greatest  and  happiest  man  in  the  world  ? " 

"  Look  a  here,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  got  up  and 
tried  his  lame  leg,  and  found  the  pain  was  gone,  and 
walked  down  on  the  lawn  where  the  boys  were  rolling 
in  the  .grass,  and  sat  down  on  a  lawn  chair ;  "  when 
you  read  a  book  of  fairy  stories,  you  want  to  look  at 
the  date.  That  book  was  written  a  dozen  years  ago 
to  advertise  Pullman  cars.  It  is  out  of  date." 

"  Well,  isn't  the  town  there,  and  are  not  the  labor 
ing  people  happy,  and  singing  praises  to  the  great  and 
good  Mr.  Pullman,  and  showering  blessings  on  his 
family,  and  helping  to  make  a  heaven  upon  earth  of 
the  town  he  built  for  them  ? " 

"I  thought  you  boys  were  up  to  the  times,"  said 
the  old  man,  as  he  lighted  up  his  pipe,  and  crossed 
his  legs  so  the  lame  one  was  on  top,  "  but  you  are 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  153 

back  numbers.  You  read  too  much  algebra,  English 
history  and  fables.  Why,  Pullman  has  been  dead  for 
years,  both  the  man  and  the  town.  I  guess  I'll  have 
to  educate  you  a  little  in  American  history,  that  you 
don't  get  in  the  ward  school.  Pullman  was  a  carpen 
ter  who  worked  with  a  jack  plane,  and  a  saw,  and 
things.  It  is  said  he  took  advantage  of  some  ideas 
another  man  forgot  to  patent,  got  the  ideas  patented, 
and  the  result  was  the  sleeping  car.  He  made  money 
by  the  barrel,  and  when  the  callouses  and  blood  blis 
ters  were  off  his  hands,  and  they  became  soft,  he  be 
gan  to  blow  in  money,  and  made  people  acquainted 
with  the  fact  that  he  was  too  rich  for  words.  He 
still  looked  like  a  carpenter,  but  smelled  like  a  rose 
garden,  for  he  learned  to  take  a  bath  every  few  min 
utes  and  perfume  himself,  so  the  old-fashioned  per 
spiration  that  had  been  so  healthy  for  him  would  not 
be  noticed.  He  hunted  dollars  as  a  pointer  dog 
hunts  chickens,  and  finally  he  got  so  much  money  he 
could  not  count  it,  and  he  hired  men  who  were  good 
at  figures  to  count  it  for  him.  Then  his  brain  took  a 
day  off  and  studied  out  Pullman,  and  he  built  it  on  the 
prairie.  His  idea  was  all  right,  only  that  he  couldn't 
get  over  the  idea  that  he  must  have  a  big  percentage 
on  his  outlay,  in  rents.  He  wanted  his  men  to  be 
happy,  but  he  wanted  them  to  pay  big  prices.  An 
other  thing  he  wanted  was  for  them  not  to  think,  but 
to  let  him  do  all  the  thinking.  For  a  few  years  they 
were  happy,  but  they  kept  getting  in  debt ;  he  cut 
down  on  wages,  but  kept  rents  up,  and  the  price  of 


154  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

gas  and  water  never  went  down.  If  they  did  not  like 
it  they  could  go  somewhere  else,  and  leave  some  of 
the  furniture  to  square  up,  if  they  were  behind  in 
rent,  but  usually  the  bookkeeper  took  it  out  of  the 
wages.  Then  they  traded  at  his  stores,  attended  his 
theater,  and  he  got  most  all  the  velvet.  They  stood 
it  as  long  as  possible,  and  asked  for  more  wages,  and 
more  work,  and  his  agents — Pullman  was  never  there 
himself,  he  had  an  island  in  the -St.  Lawrence,  and 
residences  everywhere  except  at  his  Utopia  —  told 
them  to  hush  up  and  go  to  work,  and  be  mighty  quick 
about  it,  or  he  would  fire  them  bodily  out  of  the  town. 
Then  they  struck,  and  wanted  to  arbitrate,  but  Pull 
man  telegraphed  that  there  was  nothing  to  arbitrate, 
and  then  the  Utopia  became  a  Tophet,  which  it  had 
resembled  for  some  time.  Everything  was  closed  up, 
men  saw  their  children  hungry,  and  they  were  moved 
away  by  charity  to  new  places,  where  they  might  get 
some  work.  The  cold-blooded  proposition  that  is  not 
popular  with  American  citizens  was  that  if  men  would 
get  on  their  knees,  apologize,  and  beg,  the  authorities 
would  see  what  could  be  done  for  them.  Men  became 
desperate,  troops  were  sent  to  guard  the  premises  and 
to  jab  with  bayonets  these  happy  workmen  that  did 
not  move  along  fast  enough.  Pullman  himself  stayed 
at  his  island,  or  at  the  seashore,  and  the  men  who  had 
dared  to  think  without  a  dog  license  were  growing 
thinner,  and  by  and  by  nearly  all  were  gone ;  others 
took  their  places,  but  the  old  town  was  not  what  it 
used  to  be.  Workmen  preferred  to  live  miles  away, 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  155 

in  attics,  or  anywhere,  in  preference  to  the  Pullman 
cottages.  Then,  one  morning  Pullman  died,  quick 
action,  at  his  house,  and  millionaire  neighbors  buried 
him.  Few  flowers  were  sent  by  the  old  laborers. 
His  boys,  twins,  had  developed  a  partiality  for  jags, 
and  having  been  cut  off  with  little  money  in  his  will,, 
they  have  wandered  around,  from  one  drunk  cure  to 
another,  marrying  occasionally,  and  otherwise  enjoy 
ing  themselves,  until  their  poor  mother  was  almost 
crazy,  and  the  Pullman  works  are  run  by  men  who 
happened  to  be  in  on  the  ground  floor,  but  who  don't 
care  much  about  the  laboring  man.  No,  sir,"  said 
the  old  man,  warming  up  to  the  subject,  "I  will  not 
take  you  kids  to  Pullman.  I  had  rather  take  you  to 
a  cemetery,  or  visit  the  homes  of  the  cliff  dwellers  of 
Mexico.  Now,  go  wash  up  for  dinner.  You  get  me 
to  talking,  and  I  forget  all  about  my  rheumatism,  and 
my  dinner,  and  everything,"  and  the  old  man  started 
for  the  house,  and  the  boys  looked  at  each  other  as 
though  they  had  learned  something  not  in  the  school 
books. 


Feck's  Uncle  r* 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

It  was  the  first  cool  and  bracing  morning  since 
extreme  heat  of  the  summer,  and  Uncle  Ike  had  be 
gun  to  feel  like  going  duck  shooting.  He  could 
almost  smell  duck  feathers  in  the  air,  and  he  had  put 
on  an  old  dead-grass  colored  sweater,  with  a  high  col 
lar  that  rubbed  against  his  unshaven  neck,  and  he 
had  got  out  his  gun  to  wipe  it  for  the  hundredth  time 
since  he  laid  it  away  at  ihe  close  of  the  last  season. 
He  looked  it  over  and  petted  it,  and  finally  sat  down 
in  a  rocking  chair,  with  the  gun  between  his  knees 
and  a  few  cartridges  in  his  hand  that  he  had  found  in 
the  pocket  of  his  sweater;  and  he  got  to  thinking  of 
the  days  that  he  had  passed,  in  the  last  half  century, 
shooting  ducks,  and  hoping  that  the  clock  of  time 
could  be  turned  back,  in  his  case,  and  that  he  might 
be  permitted  to  enjoy  many  years  more  of  the  sport 
that  had  given  him  so  much  enjoyment,  and  con 
tributed  so  greatly  to  his  health  and  hardness  of 
muscle.  He  was  cocking  the  old  gun  and  letting 
down  the  hammers  in  a  contemplative  mood,  and  oc 
casionally  aiming  at  a  fly  on  the  opposite  wall,  as 
though  it  was  a  duck,  when  the  door  opened  and  the 
red-headed  boy,  accompanied  by  eight  other  boys, 
armed  to  the  teeth  with  such  weapons  as  they  could 
find,  marched  in  and  formed  a  line  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room,  and  at  the  command,  "  Present 


anci  the  Red-headed  Boy  157 

arms  /  '  given  by  the  red-headed  captain,  they  saluted 
Uncle  Ike.  He  arose  from  the  rocking  chair,  placed 
his  shotgun  at  a  "  carry,"  and  acknowledged  the  sa- 
lut<,,  irul  said  : 

"If  that  horse  pistol  that  No.  2  soldier  has  goi 
poscled  at  my  stomach  is  loaded,  I  want  to  declare 
that  this  war  is  over,  and  you  can  go  to  the  cook  and 
get  your  discharges,  and  fill  out  your  blanks  for  pen 
sions.  But  now,  what  does  this  all  mean  ?  Why 
this  martial  array  ?  Why  do  you  break  in  on  a  peace 
ful  man  this  way,  a  man  who  does  not  believe  in 
shedding  human  gore,  so  early  in  the  morning  ? " 

"  Uncle  Ike,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  stepping 
one  pace  to  the  front,  and  saluting  with  a  piece  of 
Jath,  "  we  came  to  offer  you  the  position  of  colonel 
of  our  regiment.  We  have  thought  over  all  the  Mien 
who  have  been  suggested  as  leaders,  and  have  c-on- 
duded  that  you  are  the  jim  dandy,  and  we  want  you 
to  accept." 

"  Well,  this  takes  me  entirely  by  surprise ; "  raid 
Uncle  Ike,  as  he  laid  the  shotgun  on  the  table;  "1 
certainly  have  not  sought  this  office.  But  I  cannot 
accept  the  trust  until  I  know  what  is  the  object  ot 
the  organization.  Who  do  you  propose  to  fight  ? " 

"  We  are  organized  to  fight  the  French,  both  with 
weapons  and  by  the  boycott,"  said  the  leader,  swelling 
out  his  chest,  and  each  red  hair  sticking  up  straight. 
"  We  have  watched  the  trial  of  Dreyfus,  and  the  out 
rage  of  his  conviction  without  a  particle  of  testimony 
against  him,  has  just  made  us  sick,  and  we  are  form- 


158  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

ing  a  regiment  to  fight  Frenchmen  wherever  we  find 
them.  We  had  the  first  battle  at  daylight  this  morn 
ing,  when  a  French  milkman  drove  along,  and  we 
threw  eggs  at  him,  and  his  horse  run  away  and  spilled 
four  cans  of  milk.  We  are  for  blood,  or  milk,  or  any 
old  thing  that  Frenchmen  deal  in.  We  will  not  drink 
any  French  champagne,  and  have  decided  not  to  visit 
the  Paris  Exposition." 

"  Well,  I  swow !  you  have  got  it  up  your  noses 
pretty  bad,  haven't  you?"  said  the  old  man  as  he 
ordered  the  platoon  to  sit  down  on  the  floor  and  go 
into  camp.  "  It  is  pretty  tough,  the  way  the  French 
treated  Dreyfus,  but  how  are  you  going  to  make  your 
boycott  work  ? " 

"  We  are  going  to  petition  the  President  to  cut  off 
supplies  for  the  Paris  Exposition,  withdraw  from  par 
ticipation  in  it,  and  we  are  going  to  ask  all  the  people 
that  were  intending  to  go  to  Paris  to  stay  away." 

"  I  see,  I  see,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  feeling  in  the  pocket 
of  his  old  sweater,  and  finding  a  handful  of  leaves, 
twigs  and  plug  tobacco  that  had  accumulated  there 
for  years.  "  How  many  Jew  boys  have  you  got 
enlisted  in  your  army  ?  You  know  this  Dreyfus 
trouble  is  a  fight  on  the  Jews,  not  only  in  France,  but 
of  the  whole  world.  You  ought  to  have  a  whole  regi 
ment  of  Jew  boys.  How  many  have  you  got  ?" 

"  Well,  we  haven't  got  any  yet,  but  a  whole  lot  of 
them  are  going  to  think  about  it,  and  ask  their  parents 
if  they  can  join,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Yes,  they  will  think  about  it,  but  they  won't  join," 


Uncle  Ike,  we  came  to  offer  you  the  position  of  Colontl  of  our 
regiment." 

»59 


160  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

said  the  old  man,  reaching  for  his  pipe,  and  lighting 
up  for  a  talk.  "The  Jews  are  the  most  patient,  peace 
ful  people  in  the  world.  They  come  the  nearest  to 
acting  on  the  theory  of  the  Golden  Rule,  of  any  class 
of  people,  and  they  are  about  the  only  people  that  will 
turn  the  other  cheek,  when  hit  on  the  jaw.  They 
have  been  assailed  for  thousands  of  years,  until  they 
look  upon  being  ostracised  and  trodden  upon  as  one 
of  the  things  they  must  expect,  and  they  don't  kick 
half  as  much  as  they  ought  to.  If  they  had  the  en 
thusiasm  and  the  fighting  qualities  of  the  Irish,  they 
would  take  blackthorn  clubs  and  mow  a  swath  through 
France  wide  enough  for  an  army  to  march  over.  Why 
don't  you  fellows  wait  until  the  Jews  map  out  a  plan 
of  campaign,  and  then  follow  them  ?  It  is  no  dead 
sure  thing  that  if  the  people  of  other  countries  boy 
cotted  France,  that  they  would  not  ruin  more  Jews 
than  Frenchmen,  as  the  Jews  are  in  business  that  the 
Exposition  will  make  or  break,  while  the  French  just 
sit  around  and  drink  absinthe  and  shout  "viva  la 
armee ! "  Don't  you  see  you  may  ruin  the  very  people 
you  want  to  help  ?  Then,  stop  and  think  of  another 
thing.  It  is  not  many  months  ago  that  a  Jew  cadet 
at  West  Point  was  hazed  and  abused  and  ostracised  by 
the  other  cadets,  and  had  his  life  made  such  a  burden 
that  he  had  to  resign  and  go  home,  heart-broken  to  a 
heart-broken  mother.  That  was  almost  as  bad  as  the 
Dreyfus  case,  as  far  as  it  went.  How  can  the  Presi 
dent  boycott  France  for  abusing  Jews  when  our  own 
army  officers,  that  are  to  be,  have  shown  a  meanness 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  161 

that  will  size  up  pretty  fairly  with  the  French  army 
devils.  I'll  tell  you,  boys,  what  you  do.  Let  your 
sympathy  go  out  to  Dreyfus,  and  all  his  people,  but 
don't  go  off  half-cocked.  Wait  until  the  representa 
tive  Jews  of  this  country  decide  what  it  is  their  duty 
to  do  in  this  case,  and  then  join  them,  and  help  them, 
whether  it  is  to  fight  or  to  pray.  If  they  conclude  to 
sit  down,  and  look  sorry,  and  turn  the  other  cheek, 
and  be  swatted  some  more,  you  be  sorry  also.  If 
they  decide  to  get  on  their  ears,  and  fight,  with 
money,  or  guns,  or  boycott,  you  do  as  you  like  about 
helping  them  out.  But  if  you  read,  in  a  day  or  two, 
that  France  has  borrowed  a  few  more  millions  of 
Rothschild,  to  pay  off  these  officers  who  have  perse 
cuted  Dreyfus,  you  can  make  up  your  minds  that  it  is 
a  good  deal  like  our  politics  here  at  home,  mighty 
badly  mixed.  Now  you  go  and  get  me  a  wash  basin 
of  hot  soft  water,  and  some  rags,  and  I  will  clean  this 
gun,  and  you  disband  your  army,  and  appoint  a  good 
Jew  for  colonel,  and  when  he  says  the  affair  is  ripe  for 
a  fight  you  can  spiel,"  and  the  old  man  took  the  gun 
apart  and  prepared  to  clean  it. 

"Atten-shun ! "  shouted  the  red-headed  boy  to  his 
army,  and  each  soldier  jumped  up  off  the  carpet  and 
stood  erect  as  possible.  "I  will  now  disband  you,  and 
deliver  my  farewell  address."  Then  he  whispered  to 
Uncle  Ike,  and  the  old  man  handed  him  a  half  dollar, 
when  the  captain  gave  the  money  to  a  boy  who  seemed 
to  be  second  in  command,  and  added,  "  Go  and  buy 
you  some  ice-cream  soda,  and  be  prepared  to  respond 


1 62  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

to  the  call  to  arms  at  a  minute's  notice.  If  France  does 
not  pardon  Dreyfus,  and  I  can  get  a  lot  of  Jew  boys 
to  join  us,  we  won't  do  a  ting  to  France.  Break 
ranks  !  Git !  "  and  the  boys  went  outdoors  and  made 
a  rush  for  a  soda  fountain. 

"  Now,  Uncle  Ike,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  watched  his 
army  going  down  the  street,  "  I  have  got  a  favor  to 
ask  of  you.  I  want  you  to  give  me  music  lessons." 

"  Well,  I'll  be  bunkoed,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  be 
gan  to  pull  the  sweater  off  over  his  head.  "  I  can't 
sing  anything  but  '  Marching  Through  Georgia.' 
What  you  want  musk  lessons  for  ?  " 

"Well,  sir,  I'll  tell  you,  if  you  won't  laugh  at  me," 
said  the  boy,  blushing.  "  You  see,  my  girl  has  got 
back  from  the  seashore,  where  she  has  been  taking 
salt-water  baths.  She  was  too  fresh,  but  she  is  salty 
enough  now,  and  her  face  and  arms  are  tanned  just 
like  these  Russia  leather  moccasins.  You  couldn't 
tell  her  from  an  Indian,  only  she  doesn't  smell  like 
buckskin.  She  has  been  taking  lessons  all  summer  at 
a  conservatory  of  music,  and  she  can  sing  away  up  so 
high  that  when  she  strikes  a  high  note  and  gargles  on 
it,  it  makes  your  hair  raise  right  up,  and  bristle,  it  is 
so  full  of  electricity.  She  has  got  a  tenor  voice 
that " 

"Hold  on,  hold  on,  you  have  got  all  mixed  up," 
said  the  old  man.  "  She  does  not  gargle.  That  is 
called  warbling,  or  trilling,  or  trolling,  or  something. 
And  no  girl  has  a  tenor  voice.  She  must  be  a 
soprano." 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  163 

"  Well,  that's  what  I  want  to  take  music  lessons 
for,  so  I  can  talk  with  her  intelligently  about  her 
music.  Why,  last  night  we  were  at  a  party,  and  I 
turned  the  music  v.  hile  she  played  and  sang,  and  I  got 
the  wrong  i-age,  and  got  her  all  tangled  up,  and  when 
she  got  through,  and  the  people  were  telling  her  how 
beautiful  she  sang,  I  told  her  she  had  the  most  beau 
tiful  bass  voice  I  ever  saw,  and  she  was  so  mad  she 
wouldn't  speak  to  me,  so  I  want  you  to  teach  me 
which  is  tenor,  and  which  is  baritone,  and  which  is 
that  other  thing,  you  know,  Uncle  Ike." 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  do,"  said  the  old  man  as  he  turned 
his  head  away  to  keep  from  laughing.  "  You  want  to 
learn  to  be  a  he  Patti,  in  four  easy  lessons.  Why, 
you  couldn't  learn  enough  about  music  to  be  in  her 
class  in  fourteen  years.  What  you  want  to  do  is  to 
look  wise,  and  applaud  when  anybody  gets  through 
singing,  and  say  bravo,  and  beautiful,  and  all  that,  but 
not  give  yourself  away  by  commenting  on  the  tech 
nique,  see  ? " 

"  Stopper  !  Backerup !  What  is  technique  on  a 
girl,  Uncle  Ike  ? "  asked  the  red-headed  boy,  as  his 
eyes  stuck  out  like  peeled  onions.  "I  have  been 
around  girls  ever  since  I  was  big  enough  to  go  home 
alone  after  seeing  them  home,  without  being  afraid  of 
spooks,  but  I  hope  to  die  if  I  ever  saw  a  technique." 

"The  technique,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  looking  wise,  "  is 
what  we  musicians  call  the — the — get  there,  Eli.  You 
know  when  a  girl  is  singing,  and  gets  away  up  on  a 
high  note,  and  keeps  getting  it  down  finer  all  the 


164  Peck's   Uncle  Ike 

time,  until  it  is  not  much  bigger  than  a  cambric 
needle,  and  she  draws  in  a  whole  lot  of  air,  and  just 
fools  with  that  wee  bit  of  a  note,  and  draws  it  out 
fine  like  a  silk  thread,  and  keeps  letting  go  of  it  a  lit 
tle  at  a  time  until  it  seems  as  though  it  was  a  mile 
long,  and  the  audience  stops  talking  and  eating  candy, 
and  just  holds  its  breath,  and  listens  for  her  to  bite  it 
off,  and  she  wiggles  with  it,  and  catches  another 
breath  when  it  is  keeping  right  on,  and  it  seems  so 
sweet  and  smooth  that  you  can  almost  see  angels 
hovering  around  up  in  the  roof,  and  she  stands  there 
with  her  beautiful  eyes  shining  like  stars,  and  her 
face  wreathed  in  smiles,  and  that  little  note  keeps 
paying  out  like  a  silk  fish  line  with  a  four-pound  bass 
running  away  with  the  bait,  and  the  audience  gets 
red  in  the  face  for  not  breathing,  and  when  everybody 
thinks  she  is  going  to  keep  on  all  night,  or  bust  and 
fill  the  house  with  little  notes  that  smell  of  violets, 
she  wakes  up,  raises  her  voice  two  or  three  degrees 
higher,  and  finds  a  note  that  is  more  beautiful  still, 
but  which  is  as  rare  as  the  bloom  of  a  century  plant, 
so  rare  and  radiant  that  she  can't  keep  it  long  without 
spoiling,  and  just  as  you  feel  like  dying  in  your  tracks 
and  going  to  heaven  where  they  sing  that  way  all  the 
time,  she  shakes  that  note  into  little  showers  of  crys 
tal  musical  snowflakes,  and  then  raises  her  voice  one 
note  higher  just  for  a  second,  and  backs  away  with  a 
low  bow  and  a  sweet  smile,  and  the  audience  is  dumb 
for  a  minute,  and  when  it  comes  to,  and  she  has 
almost  gone  behind  the  scenes,  everybody  cheers, 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  165 

and  waves  handkerchiefs,  and  stands  up  and  yells 
until  she  conies  back  and  does  it  over  again,  that  is 
technique." 

"Well,  sir,  my  girl  has  got  a  technique  just  like 
that.  She  can  sing  the  socks  right  off  of " 

"  Oh,  hold  on ;  don't  work  any  of  your  slang  into 
this  musical  discussion.  When  you  want  to  know 
anything  about  music,  or  falling  in  love,  or  farming, 
come  to  your  Uncle  Ike.  Office  hours  from  9  a.  m. 
to  4  p.  m.  No  cure  no  pay.  If  you  are  not  satisfied 
your  money  will  be  cheerfully  refunded,"  and  the  old 
man  got  an  oil  can  and  begun  to  oil  the  old  shotgun, 
while  the  boy  started  to  sing  "  Killarney  "  in  a  bass 
voice,  and  Uncle  Ike  drew  the  gun  on  him  and  said : 
"  If  you  are  looking  for  trouble,  sing  in  that  buzz-saw 
voice  in  my  presence.  I  could  murder  a  person  that 
sang  like  that." 


1 66  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Uncle  Ike  was  leaning  over  the  gate  late  in  the 
afternoon,  waiting  for  the  red-headed  boy  and  some  of 
his  chums  to  come  back  from  the  State  fair.  He  had 
gone  to  the  fair  with  them,  and  gone  around  to  look 
at  the  stock  with  them,  and  had  staked  them  for  ad 
mission  to  all  the  side  shows,  and  when  they  had  come 
out  of  the  last  side  show,  and  were  hungry,  he  had 
bought  a  mess  of  hot«wiener  sausages  for  them,  and 
while  they  were  eating  them  somebody  yelled  that  the 
balloon  was  going  to  go  up,  and  the  boys  grabbed  their 
wieners  and  run  across  the  fair  grounds,  losing  Uncle 
Ike ;  and  being  tired,  and  not  caring  to  see  a  young 
girl  go  up  a  mile  in  the  air,  and  come  down  with  a 
parachute,  with  a  good  prospect  of  flattening  herself 
on  the  hard  ground,  he  had  concluded  to  go  home 
before  the  crowd  rushed  for  the  cars,  and  here  he  was 
at  the  gate  waiting  for  the  boys,  saddened  because  a 
pickpocket  had  taken  his  watch  and  a  big  seal  fob  that 
had  been  in  the  family  almost  a  hundred  years.  As 
he  waited  for  the  boys  to  come  back  he  smoked  hard, 
and  wondered  what  a  pickpocket  wanted  to  fool  an  old 
man  for,  a  man  who  would  divide  his  money  with  any 
one  out  of  luck,  and  he  wondered  what  they  could  get 
on  that  poor  old  silver  watch,  that  never  kept  time 
that  could  be  relied  on,  and  a  tear  came  to  his  eye  as 
he  thought  of  some  jeweler  melting  up  that  old  fob 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  167 

that  his  father  and  grandfather  used  to  wear  before 
him,  and  he  wondered  if  the  boys  would  guy  him  for 
having  his  pocket  picked,  he,  who  had  mixed  up  with 
the  world  for  half  a  century  and  never  been  touched. 
It  was  almost  dark  when  the  red-headed  boy  and  his 
partners  in  crime,  came  down  the  sidewalk,  so  tired 
their  shoes  interfered,  and  they  stubbed  their  toes  on 
the  holes  in  the  walk,  even. 

"  Well,  I  s'pose  you  ducks  spent  every  cent  you  had 
and  had  to  walk  five  miles  from  the  fair  ground,"  said 
Uncle  Ike,  as  he  opened  the  gate  and  let  them  fall  in 
side  and  drop  on  the  grass,  their  shoes  covered  with 
dust,  and  their  clothes  the  same.  He  invited  them 
in  to  supper,  but  the  peanuts,  the  popcorn,  the  waffles, 
the  lemonade,  the  cider  and  the  wieners  had  been 
plenty  for  them,  and  it  did  not  seem  as  though  they 
ever  wanted  to  eat  a  mouthful  again. 

"  Where  is  your  fob  and  watch  ? "  said  the  red 
headed  boy,  as  he  noticed  that  the  big  stomach  of 
the  old  man  carried  no  ornament. 

"  Well,  I  decided  this  afternoon  that  it  did  not  be 
come  a  man  of  my  age  to  be  wearing  gaudy  jewelry," 
said  Uncle  Ike,  "  and  hereafter  you  have  got  to  take 
your  uncle  just  as  he  is,  without  any  ornaments. 
The  watch  never  did  keep  time  much,  and  I  have  had 
enough  of  guessing  whether  it  was  I  o'clock  or  3." 

"Never  going  to  wear  it  any  more?"  asked  the 
red-headed  boy,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"No,  I  guess  not,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  heaved 
a  sigh. 


1 68  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

"  Then  I  guess  we  can  draw  cuts  for  the  old  rat 
tle-box,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  pulled  the  watch  and  fob 
out  of  his  pants  pocket. 

"  Here !  where  did  you  get  that  watch  ? "  said  Un 
cle  Ike,  in  excitement.  "  I  thought  a  pickpocket  on 
the  trolley  car  got  it,  and  I  was  hot.  Say,  that  is  one 
of  the  best  watches  in  this  town.  Where  did  you 
find  it  ?  Did  the  police  get  the  man  ? " 

"  Oh,  police  nothin',''  said  the  boy.  "  Say,  Uncle 
Ike,  you  were  the  easiest  mark  on  the  fair  ground. 
There  you  stood,  looking  up  at  the  kites,  with  your 
hands  behind  your  back,  like  a  jay  from  way  back, 
and  I  knew  somebody  would  get  your  watch ;  so  I 
just  reached  up  and  took  it,  and  left  you  standing 
there.  I  wanted  to  teach  you  a  lesson.  Don't  ever 
wear  your  jewelry  at  a  fair.  Here's  your  old  ticker. 
Sounds  as  though  it  had  palpitation  of  the  heart," 
and  the  boy  handed  it  to  the  old  man. 

"  Well,  by  gum !  To  think  I  should  live  all  these 
years,  and  go  through  what  I  have,  and  then  have  an 
amateur  pickpocket  take  me  for  a  Reuben,  and  go 
through  me !  But  how  did  you  like  the  great  agri 
cultural  display?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  boy,  taking  off  his 
shoes  and  emptying  the  sand  out.  "  It  seems  to  me 
the  farmers  ought  to  be  encouraged.  I  wonder  how 
many  hundred  dollars  it  cost  to  hire  that  girl  to  go 
up  in  a  balloon  ;  and  what  good  could  that  exhibition 
do  the  farmers  ?  If  that  girl's  parachute  hadn't  para 
chuted  at  the  proper  time,  and  she  had  come  down 


4, 


•«HereI  where  did  you  get  that  watch?1 
169 


170  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

and  been  killed,  wouldn't  the  people  have  been  so 
horrified  they  would  never  go  to  another  fair,  and 
couldn't  the  state  have  been  sued  for  damages  for 
hiring  her  to  kill  herself  ?" 

"Oh,  maybe,"  said  the  old  man,  winding  up  his 
watch  a  lot  ahead,  and  holding  it  to  his  ears  to  see  if 
it  had  heart  disease,  as  the  boy  had  intimated.  "  But, 
you  see,  people  have  got  to  be  amused.  It  has  got 
so  there  is  not  the  inspiration  in  looking  at  vegetables 
that  there  used  to  be,  and  the  patchwork  quilt  does 
not  draw  like  a  house  afire.  The  farmers  are  not 
going  to  blow  in  money  to  exhibit  things  for  a  blue 
ribbon,  and  the  wealthy  people  who  have  fancy  stock 
take  the  premiums  and  advertise  their  business. 
Money  is  paid  for  exhibits  that  more  properly  belong 
to  the  circus  and  the  vaudeville,  that  ought  to  be  paid 
in  premiums  to  farmers  who  raise  things.  We  hire  a 
balloonist,  believing  that  she  will  fall  and  kill  herself 
before  the  season  is  over.  We  take  the  chance  that 
she  will  kill  herself  at  our  fair,  but  if  she  does  not, 
and  is  killed  at  some  cheap  fair,  somewhere  else,  we 
feel  that  we  are  abused,  and  have  been  trifled  with. 
What  interested  you  the  most  at  the  fair?"  asked  the 
old  man. 

"The  wieners,"  said  the  boys,  all  at  once.  And 
the  red-headed  boy  added  :  "  When  a  feller  is  so  hun 
gry  his  eyes  look  straight  ahead,  and  he  can't  turn 
them  in  the  sockets,  there  is  nothing  like  a  hot 
wiener  to  start  things  moving,  and  the  man  who  in 
vented  wieners  ought  to  have  a  chromo.  By  gosh,  I 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  571 

am  going  to  bed,"  and  the  boys  all  started  for  their 
resting  places,  while  Uncle  Ike  felt  of  his  stomach 
where  the  fob  rested,  and  looked  as  happy  as  though 
he  had  never  been  robbed. 

"  Come  on,  Mr.  Train-robber,"  said  Uncle  Ike  the 
next  morning,  as  the  boy  showed  up  in  the  breakfast 
room,  and  the  old  man  held  up  his  hands  as  he  sup 
posed  passengers  did  when  train-robbers  attacked  a 
train.  "Go  through  me,  condemn  you,  and  take 
every  last  dollar  I  have  got.  I  have  brought  you  up 
to  be  an  honest  boy,  and  you  turn  out  to  be  a  pick 
pocket,  and  rob  me  of  my  watch.  Oh,  I  tell  you,  no 
old  bachelor  ever  had  so  much  trouble  bringing  up  a 
boy  as  I  have.  Now,  I  expect  you  will  graduate  in 
burglary,  bunko,  and  politics,  won't  you  ?"  and  the  old 
man  looked  at  the  laughing  boy  with  such  pride  that 
the  boy  knew  he  was  only  fooling. 

"  No,  if  I  went  into  burglary  and  kindred  industries, 
I  could  never  find  such  easy  marks  to  practice  on  as 
dear  old  Uncle  Ike,"  and  the  boy  put  his  arms  around 
the  old  man  and  asked  him  what  time  it  was,  and  the 
Uncle  grabbed  his  fob  as  though  he  was  not  sure 
whether  it  was  there  or  not.  "  Now,  let's  eat  break 
fast,"  and  they  sat  down  together,  and  Aunt  Almira 
poured  the  coffee,  while  Uncle  Ike  looked  over  the 
morning  paper. 

"  You  can  disband  your  army,  and  let  them  go  back 
to  the  paths  of  peace,  for  Dreyfus  has  been  pardoned," 
said  the  old  man.  "  I  knew  that  they  would  pardon 
that  man." 


ljl  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

"  Now,  wouldn't  that  kill  you,"  said  the  boy,  as  he 
sampled  two  or  three  pieces  of  canteloupe  to  find  one 
to  his  taste.  "  That  breaks  up  my  scheme  to  fight 
the  French.  Uncle  Ike,  I  have  about  made  up  my 
mind  to  lead  a  different  life  and  become  a  minister, 
and  preach,  and  go  to  sociables,  and  just  have  a  dandy 
time.  Say,  it's  a  snap  to  be  a  minister,  and  only  have 
to  preach  an  hour  Sunday,  and  have  all  the  week  to 
go  fishing  and  hunting.  What  denomination  would 
you  advise  me  to  become  a  minister  of  ? " 

"  Well,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  dropped  a  few  lumps 
of  sugar  into  his  coffee,  and  looked  at  the  boy  across 
the  table,  "  from  the  color  of  your  hair,  and  your  con 
stant  talk  about  falling  in  love  every  time  you  see  a 
pretty  girl,  and  the  manner  in  which  you  take  up  a 
collection  every  time  you  see  me  anywhere,  I  should 
say  you  would  make  a  pretty  fair  Mormon.  Yes,  if 
I  was  in  your  place  I  would  preach  Mormonism,  as 
your  experience  in  taking  things  out  of  people's  pock 
ets,  in  the  way  of  watches,  would  come  handy,  and  you 
are  so  confounded  freckled  you  would  have  to  have 
wives  sealed  to  you  or  they  would  not  stay.  A  min 
ister  has  got  to  be  pretty  condemned  good-looking, 
nowadays,  to  hold  a  job  in  a  fashionable  church." 

"  But  the  minister  business  is  easy,  ain't  it  ?  They 
don't  have  to  work,  anyway,"  and  the  boy  looked  at 
Uncle  Ike  as  though  he  expected  an  opinion  that 
was  sound. 

"If  you  took  a  job  preaching,"  said  the  old  man, 
whirling  around  from  the  table,  and  sitting  down  in 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  173 

his  old  armchair,  and  lighting  his  pipe,  "  you  wouldn't 
have  any  soft  snap.  Do  you  know  anything  about 
what  a  minister  has  to  do  ?  Let's  take  one  week  out 
of  the  life  of  a  regular  minister.  He  starts  in  on 
Monday  morning  by  having  a  woman  call  at  the  par 
sonage,  a  woman  dressed  poorly,  and  whose  pained 
face  makes  his  heart  ache,  and  she  tells  him  a  tale  of 
woe,  and  he  goes  to  his  wife  and  gets  a  basket  of 
stuff  out  of  the  kitchen  to  give  her,  a  kitchen  not 
stocked  any  too  well,  and  sends  her  home  with  im 
mediate  relief,  and  then  goes  out  to  hunt  up  the  relief 
committee  of  his  church  to  give  the  woman  perma 
nent  relief.  He  comes  back  after  a  while  and  finds 
other  callers,  some  to  have  him  make  a  diagnosis  of 
their  souls,  over  which  they  are  worrying,  another  to 
have  him  help  get  a  son  out  of  the  police  station,  who 
used  to  belong  to  the  Sunday-school,  and  one  man 
wants  him  to  preach  a  funeral  sermon  in  the  after 
noon.  He  gets  out  of  the  police  station  in  time  for 
the  funeral,  and  they  make  him  go  clear  to  the  ceme 
tery,  and  stop  at  the  house  with  the  mourners  on  the 
way  back,  and  he  gets  a  cold  dinner  that  night,  and 
has  to  call  on  several  sick  friends  that  evening,  and 
one  of  them  is  so  nearly  gone  that  he  remains  with 
him  to  the  last,  and  gets  home  at  midnight.  The 
other  days  of  the  week  are  the  same,  only  more  so, 
and  in  addition  he  has  to  run  a  prayer  meeting,  sev 
eral  society  meetings,  a  sociable,  settle  a  quarrel  in 
the  choir,  and  bring  two  members  of  the  church  to 
gether  who  have  not  spoken  to  each  other  for  months, 


174  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

attend  a  ministers'  meeting  and  map  out  a  plan  of 
campaign  against  the  old  boy,  run  out  into  the  country 
to  preach  a  little  for  a  neighboring  preacher  who  is 
sick,  or  off  on  a  vacation,  attend  a  missionary  meet 
ing,  marry  a  few  couples,  and  prepare  two  sermons  for 
Sunday  forenoon  and  evening,  sermons  that  are  new, 
and  on  texts  that  have  not  been  preached  on  before. 
One  night  in  the  week  he  can  get  on  his  slippers  and 
sit  in  the  library,  and  the  other  nights  he  is  running 
from  one  place  to  another  to  make  a  lot  of  other  people 
happier,  and  he  has  more  sickness  at  home  than  any 
man  in  his  congregation,  and  he  works  harder  than  the 
man  who  digs  in  the  sewer,  and  half  the  time  the 
people  kick  on  his  salary  and  wonder  why  he  doesn't 
do  more,  and  say  he  looks  so  dressed  up  it  can't  be 
possible  he  has  much  to  do,  and  when  he  gets  worn 
down  to  the  bone,  and  his  cheeks  are  sunken,  and  his 
voice  fails,  and  his  step  is  not  so  active,  they  saw  him 
off  on  to  some  country  church  that  never  did  pay  a 
minister  enough  to  live  on,  and  he  never  kicks,  but 
just  keeps  on  praying  for  them  until  he  kicks  the 
bucket,  when  he  ought  to  give  them  a  piece  of  his 
mind.  How  do  you  like  it?  " 

"  Say,  Uncle  Ike,  I  surrender.  I  don't  want  to 
preach.  Where  can  a  man  enlist  as  a  pirate  ?  The 
pirate  business  appeals  to  me,"  and  the  boy  got  up 
and  took  his  golf  club  to  go  out. 

"Yes,  you  have  many  qualifications  that  would 
come  in  handy  as  a  pirate,  and  I  will  use  my  influence 
to  get  you  into  politics,  you  young  heathen,"  and  the 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  175 

old  man  gave  the  red-headed  boy  a  poke  in  the  ribs 
with  his  big  hard  thumb,  and  they  separated  for  the 
day,  the  old  man  to  smoke  and  dream,  and  the  boy  to 
have  fun  and  get  tired  and  hungry. 


176  Peck's  Uftde  Ike 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Uncle  Ike  did  not  get  up  very  early,  on  account  of 
a  little  pain  in  one  of  his  hind  legs,  as  he  expressed  it, 
a  rheumatic  pain  that  he  had  almost  come  to  believe, 
as  the  pension  agent  had  often  suggested,  was  caused 
by  his  service  in  the  army  thirty-five  years  ago.  The 
pension  agent,  who  desired  to  have  the  honor  of 
securing  a  pension  for  the  old  man,  had  asked  him  to 
try  and  remember  if  he  was  not  exposed  to  a  sudden 
draft,  some  time  in  the  army,  which  might  have 
caused  him  to  take  cold,  and  thus  sow  the  seeds  of 
rheumatism  in  his  system,  which  had  lain  dormant  all 
these  years  and  finally  appeared  in  his  legs.  The  old 
man  had  thought  it  over,  and  remembered  hundreds 
of  occasions  when  he  was  soaked  through  with  icy 
water,  and  had  slept  on  the  wet  ground,  and  gone 
hungry  and  taken  cold,  but  he  realized  that  he  had 
takeiv  no  more  colds  in  the  army  than  he  had  at 
home,  and  he  could  not  see  how  he  could  swear  that 
a  chill  he  received  thirty-five  years  ago  could  have 
anything  to  do  with  his  present  aches,  and  though  he 
knew  thousands  of  the  old  boys  were  receiving  pen 
sions,  that  were  no  worse  off  than  he  was,  he  had  told 
the  pension  agent  that  he  need  not  apply  for  a  pen 
sion  for  his  pain  in  the  knee.  He  said  he  felt  that  he 
might  just  as  well  apply  for  a  pension  on  account  of 
inheriting  rheumatism  from  an  uncle  who  fought  iu 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  17) 

the  Mexican  war,  and  he  would  wait  until  the  govern 
ment  did  not  insist  on  a  veteran  having  such  an 
abnormal  memory  about  sneezing  during  the  war,  as  a 
basis  for  pension  claims,  and  when  it  got  so  a  pension 
would  come  to  a  soldier  by  simply  looking  up  his 
record,  and  examining  his  physical  condition,  he 
would  take  a  pension.  The  old  man  had  heard  a 
peculiar  clicking  down  in  the  sitting  room,  all  the 
morning,  while  he  was  dressing,  and  he  wondered 
what  it  was.  As  he  limped  into  the  sitting  room, 
with  his  dressing-gown  on,  and  began  to  round  up  his 
shaving  utensils,  preparatory  to  his  morning  shave, 
he  found  the  red-headed  boy  in  his  night  shirt,  sitting 
at  a  table  with  an  old  telegraph  instrument  that 
looked  as  though  it  had  been  picked  out  of  a  scrap- 
pile,  and  the  boy  was  ticking  away  for  dear  life,  his 
hair  standing  on  end,  his  brow  corrugated,  and  his 
eyes  glaring. 

"  What  dum  foolishness  you  got  on  hand  now  ? " 
asked  the  old  man,  as  he  set  a  cup  of  hot  water  on 
the  mantel,  and  began  to  mix  up  the  lather.  "  What 
you  ticking  away  on  that  contrivance  for,  and  look 
ing  wise?" 

"This  is  a  telegraph  office,"  said  the  boy,  as  he 
stopped  operations  long  enough  to  draw  his  cold  bare 
feet  up  under  him,  and  pulled  his  night  shirt  down  to 
cover  his  knees.  "  I  am  learning  to  telegraph,  and 
am  going  into  training  for  president  of  a  railroad. 
Did  you  see  in  the  papers  the  other  day  that  Mr. 
Earling  was  elected  president  of  a  railroad,  and  did 


178  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

you  know  that  he  started  in  as  a  telegraph  operator 
and  a  poor  boy,  with  hair  the  color  of  tow  ?  They 
used  to  call  him  Tow-Head." 

"  Yes,  I  read  about  that,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he 
looked  in  the  glass  to  see  if  the  lather  was  all  right 
on  his  face,  and  began  to  strop  his  razor.  "  I  knew 
that  boy  when  he  was  telegraphing.  But  he  knew 
what  all  those  sounds  meant.  You  just  keep  ticking 
away,  and  don't  know  one  tick  from  another." 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  smashed  away  at 
the  key.  "  That  long  sound,  and  the  short  one,  and 
the  one  about  half  as  long  as  the  long  one — that 
spells  d-a-m,  dam." 

"Well,  what  do  you  commence  your  education 
spelling  out  cuss  words  for  ? "  asked  the  old  man,  as 
he  raked  the  razor  down  one  side  of  his  face,  pulling 
his  mouth  around  to  one  side  so  it  looked  like  the 
mouth  of  a  red-horse  fish.  "  Anybody  would  think 
you  were  in  training  for  one  of  these  railroad  super 
intendents  who  swear  at  the  men  so  their  hair  will 
stand,  and  then  swear  at  them  because  they  don't  get 
their  hair  cut.  The  railroad  presidents  and  general 
managers  nowadays  don't  swear  a  blue  streak,  and 
keep  the  men  guessing  whether  they  will  get  dis 
charged  for  talking  back.  This  man  Earling  never 
swore  a  half  a  string  in  his  life,  and  in  thirty  years  of 
railroading  he  never  spoke  a  cross  word  to  a  living 
soul,  and  his  brow  was  never  corrugated  as  much  as 
yours  has  been  spelling  out  that  word  dam.  Got  any 
idea  what  railroad  you  will  be  president  of  ? "  and  the 


I  "What  dum  foolishness  you  L  Jt  on  band  now  ? ' 
170 


i8o  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

old  man  wiped  his  razor,  stropped  it  on  the  palm  of 
his  hand,  put  it  in  a  case,  and  went  to  a  washbowl  to 
wash  the  soap  off  his  face. 

"  Well,  I  thought  I  would  start  in  on  some  narrow- 
gauge  railroad,  and  work  up  gradually  for  a  year  or 
two,  and  finally  take  charge  of  one  of  those  Eastern 
roads,  where  I  can  have  a  private  car,  and  travel  all 
over  the  country  for  nothing.  As  quick  as  I  get  this 
telegraph  business  down  fine  I  shall  apply  for  a  posi 
tion  of  train  dispatcher,  and  then  jump  right  along 
up.  Uncle  Ike,  you  will  never  have  to  pay  a  cent  on 
my  railroad.  I  will  have  a  caboose  fixed  up  for  you, 
with  guns  and  dogs,  and  you  can  hunt  and  fish  all 
your  life,  with  a  nigger  to  cook  for  you,  and  a  porter 
to  put  on  your  bait,  and  another  nigger  chambermaid 
to  make  up  your  bed,  and  I  will  wire  them  from  the 
general  office  to  sidetrack  you,  and  pick  you  up,  and 
all  that." 

"  Is  that  so  ?"  said  the  old  man,  as  he  stood  rubbing 
his  face  with  a  crash  towel  till  it  shone  like  a  boiled 
lobster.  "  You  are  hurrying  your  railroad  career 
mighty  fast,  and  if  you  are  not  careful  you  will  re 
place  Chauncey  Depew  before  you  get  long  pants  on. 
Now,  you  go  get  your  clothes  on  and  come  to  break 
fast,  and  after  breakfast  I  will  tell  you  something." 
The  boy  dropped  the  key,  after  ticking  to  the  imagi 
nary  general  office  not  to  disturb  him  with  any  mes 
sages  for  half  an  hour,  as  he  was  going  to  be  busy  on 
an  important  matter,  and  he  went  to  his  room  and 
soon  appeared  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  after  the 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  1 8 1 

breakfast  was  over,  and  the  old  man  had  lighted  his 
pipe,  the  boy  said : 

"  Now,  Uncle  Ike,  tell  me  all  you  know  about  rail 
roading  in  one  easy  lesson,  for  I  have  to  go  to  a  di 
rectors'  meeting  at  ten,  and  then  we  are  going  out  to 
look  over  the  right  of  way,"  and  the  boy  ticked  off  a 
message  to  have  his  special  car  ready  at  eleven-thirty, 
stocked  for  a  trip  over  the  line. 

"  I  see  you  are  getting  well  along  in  your  railroad 
career,  and  like  nine  out  of  ten  boys  who  want  to  be 
railroad  men,  you  are  beginning  at  the  private  car  in 
stead  of  the  gravel  train,  issuing  general  orders  instead 
of  working  in  the  ranks,"  and  the  old  man  smoked  up 
and  thought  a  long  time,  and  continued  :  "  The  suc 
cessful  railroad  man  begins  at  the  bottom,  and  learns 
the  first  lesson  well.  Do  you  know  how  long  this  man 
Earling  has  been  getting  where  he  is  today  ?  Thirty- 
five  years.  More  than  the  average  age  of  man.  The 
successful  railroad  man,  if  he  begins  telegraphing,  gets 
so  he  can  send  or  receive  anything,  with  his  eyes  shut, 
and  never  makes  a  mistake.  After  a  long  time  he  gets 
a  measly  country  station,  where  he  does  all  kinds  of 
work,  and  he  is  satisfied.  He  goes  to  work  to  increase 
the  business  of  that  station,  to  clean  up  around  the 
depot,  and  please  all  the  customers,  as  though  he  was 
going  to  live  there  all  his  life.  He  never  thinks  he  is 
going  to  be  a  high  official,  but  just  makes  the  best  of 
the  present.  Some  day  he  is  awfully  surprised  to  be 
given  a  better  station,  and  he  hates  to  leave,  and  may 
be  sheds  a  tear  as  he  parts  with  the  friends  he  has 


1 82  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

made  there.  But  he  goes  to  his  new  place  and  im 
proves  it,  and  gets  in  with  a  new,  pushing  class  of 
people,  and  begins  to  grow.  He  maybe  works  there 
ten  years,  and  his  work  shows  so  the  officials  recognize 
it,  and  he  never  makes  a  mistake  in  his  telegraphing, 
and  some  day  they  call  him  into  headquarters  during 
a  rush,  to  help  the  train  dispatcher,  and  then  he  has 
to  move  into  the  city  and  watch  trains  on  thousands 
of  miles  of  road,  to  see  that  they  don't  get  together, 
as  train  dispatcher.  He  thinks  that  position  is  good 
enough,  and  he  hopes  they  will  let  him  alone  in  it,  but 
some  day  he  assists  the  superintendent,  and  he  is  so 
well  posted  they  are  all  surprised.  They  wonder  how 
that  station  agent  got  to  knowing  all  the  men  on  the 
road,  and  how  much  a  train  of  freight  cars  weigh,  and 
how  many  cents  per  mile  each  loaded  car  earns  for  the 
company,  and  what  cars  ought  to  go  to  the  shops  for 
repairs,  and  how  many  new  cars  will  have  to  be  bought 
to  handle  the  crops  on  his  division.  The  'old  man,' 
as  the  president  is  always  called,  gets  to  leaning  on 
this  always  good-natured,  promoted,  station  agent, 
who  is  so  modest  he  wouldn't  offer  a  suggestion  unless 
asked  his  opinion,  and  when  asked  gives  it  so  in 
telligently  that  you  could  set  your  watch  by  it,  as 
the  boys  say.  He  is  always  sober,  never  sleepy, 
and  whether  figuring  on  the  wheat  crop  of  Dakota 
to  a  carload,  or  wearing  rubber  boots  and  din 
ing  on  sausage  and  bread  for  a  couple  of  days  fixing 
up  a  washout,  he  is  always  calm  and  smiling,  and  every 
man  works  as  though  his  own  house  was  afire,  till  the 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  183 

washout  is  repaired  and  the  first  train  pulls  over. 
When  the  rich,  fat,  gouty  directors  come  around, 
once  a  year,  to  take  an  account  of  stock,  and  see  the 
property  at  work,  they  see  the  modest  man,  and  by 
and  by  he  is  taken  off  his  feet  by  a  promotion  that 
almost  makes  him  dizzy.  Other  railroads  see  that  he 
is  all  wool,  and  they  try  to  steal  him  away,  but  he 
says  he  has  got  used  to  his  old  man,  and  he  knows 
every  spike  in  the  system,  and  there  are  gray  hairs 
beginning  to  come  around  his  ears,  and  he  guesses  he 
will  not  go  away  and  have  to  make  new  acquaintances, 
and  he  remains  with  the  road  where  he  learned  to 
tick,  as  you  are  ticking,  and  one  day  he  is  at  the  head 
of  it.  But  if  you  examine  into  the  head  of  the  man 
who  gets  up  from  station  agent  to  president,  you  will 
find  that  there  is  brain  there  and  no  cut  feed.  An 
other  station  agent  might  get  the  bighead  the  first 
time  he  was  promoted,  and  they  would  have  to  pro 
mote  him  backward,  on  that  account,  but  it  would  be 
because  there  was  excelsior  in  his  head,  instead  of 
brain,  and  he  would  be  mad  and  jealous,  and  say 
mean  things  about  those  who  got  promoted,  and 
stayed  promoted.  Now,  let  me  give  you  a  pointer. 
Don't  train  for  general  manager  or  president  of  a  road. 
Train  for  the  thing  you  are  going  to  get  first,  whether 
it  is  operator  or  brakeman,  and  when  you  have  mas 
tered  the  details  of  that  place,  learn  something  about 
the  next  above.  It  is  like  going  up  a  ladder ;  you 
have  got  to  go  up  one  step  at  a  time,  and  get  your 
foot  on  the  step  so  it  will  stay,  then  go  up  another 


184  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

step.  If  you  attempt  to  step  from  the  ground  to  the 
top  of  the  ladder,  you  are  going  to  split  your  pants 
from  Genesis  to  Revelations,  and  come  down  on  your 
neck,  and  show  your  nakedness  to  those  who  have 
watched  you  try  to  climb  too  fast,  and  they  will 
laugh  at  you.  Now,  go  on  with  your  condum  tick 
ing,  but  tick  out  something  besides  d — a — m,  dam," 
and  the  old  man  went  out  to  see  if  there  had  been 
any  frost  the  night  before,  with  an  idea  that  if  there 
was  he  would  shoot  a  few  teal  duck,  and  cure  his 
rheumatism  that  way,  instead  of  putting  on  liniment. 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  185 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Uncle  Ike  was  out  in  the  front  yard  in  the  early 
morning,  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  with  no  collar  on,  an  old 
pair  of  rubber  boots  to  keep  the  dew  from  wetting 
his  feet,  and  he  was  helping  the  Indian  summer  haze 
all  he  could,  by  smoking  the  clay  pipe  and  blowing 
the  smoke  up  among  the  red  and  yellow  leaves  of 
autumn,  and  as  he  kicked  the  beautiful  leaves  on  the 
lawn  into  piles  he  thought  what  foolish  people  they  were 
who  claimed  last  week  that  winter  had  come,  because 
it  was  a  little  chilly,  when  he  could  have  told  them,  by 
half  a  century's  experience,  that  the  most  beautiful 
part  of  the  year  was  to  come,  the  Indian  summer,  the 
lazy  days  when  you  want  to  shoot  snipe,  and  eat 
grapes,  and  have  appendicitis.  The  red-headed  boy 
came  out  yawning,  half  awake,  and  raised  his  arms 
and  stretched  until  it  seemed  that  he  would  break 
his  back. 

"You  remind  me  of  Indian  summer,"  said  the  old 
man,  as  he  stepped  on  the  boy's  bare  foot  with  his  soft 
rubber  boot. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  boy.  as  h--*  let  out  a 
secret  school  society  yell  at  some  boys  across  the 
street,  which  brought  them  all  over  into  the  yard,  as 
though  there  was  a  dog  fight  on.  "  Uncle  Ike,  you 
remind  me  of  Father  Time,  after  he  has  been  to  a 


1 86  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

barber  and  got  shaved,  with  your  smooth  old  laughing 
face.  Why  do  I  remind  you  of  Indian  summer  ?" 

"  Well,  your  red  hair  resembles  the  frosted  leaf  of 
the  maple  tree,  your  brown  freckles  look  like  the  dead 
and  dying  leaves  of  the  oak,  your  unwashed  chalky 
face  looks  like  the  leaves  of  the  ash,  your  sparkling 
eyes  like  the  dewy  diamonds  on  the  grass,  and  your 
sleepy  look  as  you  just  come  from  your  bed  makes  me 
think  of  the  hazy  atmosphere  that  the  Indians  loved 
so  well.  What  all  you  boys  around  here  for  so  early 
in  the  morning,  anyway,  disturbing  your  Uncle  Ike 
when  he  wants  to  think  ?"  and  he  grabbed  half  a  dozen 
boys  and  piled  them  up  in  a  heap  on  the  grass,  and 
put  one  of  his  big  rubber  boots  on  the  top  one,  and 
held  them  down,  squirming  like  a  lot  of  angleworms 
in  a  tomato  can.  The  red-headed  boy  took  Uncle  Ike 
by  the  suspenders  and  pulled  him  off  the  boys,  and 
then  they  all  grabbed  his  legs  and  threw  him  down 
and  sat  on  him,  breaking  his  pipe,  and  pulling  off  his 
rubber  boots  and  making  him  yell,  "Enough !"  before 
they  would  let  him  up,  but  he  laughed  and  spanked 
them  with  a  leg  of  a  rubber  boot,  and  finally  they  all 
sat  down  on  the  porch,  panting,  and  Uncle  Ike  was 
the  youngest  boy  in  the  gang,  apparently. 

"Come  to  order,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  and 
every  boy  took  off  his  hat,  and  braced  back  against 
the  side  ».  the  house,  and  Uncle  Ike  looked  on,  won 
dering  what  was  coming  next.  "  We  have  met,  gen 
tlemen,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  "  to  make  arrange 
ments  to  nominate  Dewey  for  President,  We  have 


- 


"Squirming  like  a  lot  of  angle  worms  in  a  tomato  can.** 
187 


1 88  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

watched  the  manner  in  which  the  people  have  re 
ceived  him  at  New  York  and  Washington ;  have 
noticed  his  modesty  and  level-headedness,  and  us  boys, 
Uncle  Ike,  have  decided  that  Dewey  shall  be  the  next 
President.  If  any  person  has  got  anything  to  say 
why  he  should  not  be  President,  let  him  speak  now,  or 
forever  after  hold  his  peace.  It  is  up  to  you,  Uncle  Ike, 
and  this  assemblage  would  like  to  hear  a  few  casual 
remarks  from  you,  before  breakfast,  on  this  subject. 
Now,  boys,  hurrah  for  Uncle  Ike,  the  jolliest  old 
scrapper  in  the  business.  Now,  give  the  yell,  '  Who 
are  we !  who  are  we !  we  are  the  kids  for  old 
Dewe-e — siz  !  boom  !  yah  !'  "  and  the  boys  yelled  until 
Uncle  Ike  had  to  respond. 

"  Well,  you  condum  heathen  can  settle  more  pub 
lic  questions  here  on  this  porch  than  all  the  political 
parties,"  said  the  old  man.  as  he  fixed  a  broken  sus 
pender  with  a  nail,  and  came  up  to  the  boys  with  one 
rubber  boot  in  his  hand,  and  reached  for  a  new  pipe 
on  the  window  sill,  loaded  it,  and  lit  it  for  a  talk. 
"You  ought  to  have  better  sense  than  to  think  of 
Dewey  placing  himself  in  the  hands  of  the  politicians, 
and  going  into  politics,  where  he  will  have  to  be  cat- 
hauled  by  all  the  disreputable  critters  in  the  country. 
Look  at  Grant !  When  he  got  out  of  the  war  he 
was  just  like  Dewey,  and  would  be  alive  today  if 
he  had  not  got  into  the  hands  of  the  politicians. 
Dewey  can  sit  down  in  Washington  as  he  is,  and  have 
more  power  for  good  than  any  President,  and  he  will 
be  proud  of  himself  and  his  country.  If  he  went 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  189 

into  politics  he  would  be  betrayed,  and  made  respon 
sible  for  all  the  stealing  and  mistakes  of  those  under 
him,  and  in  a  little  while  he  would  hate  himself,  and 
would  like  to  get  all  the  politicians  into  a  Spanish  ship 
and  turn  the  Olympia  loose  on  them." 

"  Yes,  but  nobody  could  say  anything  against 
Dewey,"  said  the  red-headed  boy,  interrupting  Uncle 
Ike.  "All  he  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  appoint 
a  cabinet  of  admirals,  and  give  all  the  other  offices  to 
the  midshipmen  and  jackics,  and  send  army  officers 
abroad  as  ministers  and  things.  The  people  would 
lynch  a  man  that  said  anything  against  Dewey." 

"  They  couldn't  say  anything  against  him,  could 
they  ?"  said  Uncle  Ike,  pulling  on  the  rubber  boot. 
"  Well,  you  are  an  amateur  in  politics.  Do  you  know 
what  they  would  do  if  Dewey  were  nominated  ?  They 
would  prove  that  he  murdered  a  man  in  Vermont  in 
1852,  in  cold  blood,  and  produce  the  corpse.  They 
would  swear  that  he  was  the  inventor  of  the  wooden 
nutmeg,  and  that  he  had  six  wives  living,  and  that  he 
was  in  cahoots  with  Aguinaldo,  and  that  he  didn't 
sink  the  Spanish  fleet,  but  that  it  got  waterlogged 
and  went  down  without  a  shot  being  fired.  They 
would  claim  that  he  was  the  originator  of  the  process 
of  boiling  maple  roots  and  putting  the  juice  into  glu 
cose,  and  selling  it  for  pure  Vermont  maple  syrup. 
They  would  claim  that  the  reception  he  received  at 
the  hands  of  the  American  people  was  a  put-up  job ; 
that  he  paid  all  the  expenses  himself,  out  of  money 
he  stole  from  the  government,  and  that  all  the  cheer- 


190  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

ing  was  done  by  hired  claquers,  who  were  all  prom 
ised  an  office  when  he  was  elected.  And  then  if  he 
was  elected,  every  man  that  knew  him  before  he  went 
to  Manila  would  claim  to  have  been  the  making  of 
him,  and  want  to  be  in  the  cabinet,  and  every  man 
that  has  shook  hands  with  him  since,  would  expect 
the  best  office  at  his  disposal,  and  if  they  didn't  get 
the  offices  they  would  prove  that  he  was  responsible 
for  the  embalmed  beef  scandal,  and  that  he  was  in 
partnership  with  Capt.  Carter  in  robbing  the  govern 
ment,  and  ought  to  be  in  jail.  Oh,  you  can't  tell  me 
anything  about  politics,  and  if  I  could  see  Dewey  I 
would  tell  him  to  say  nothing  but  '  nixy '  to  every 
proposition  to  mix  him  up.  Now,  all  you  boys  come 
in  to  breakfast,"  and  the  old  man  tossed  the  boys 
toward  the  dining  room  door  as  though  they  were 
footballs. 

"Well,  Uncle  Ike,  you  have  punctured  our  tire 
again.  Every  time  we  get  a  scheme  to  save  the 
country,  you  come  in  with  your  condumed  talky-talk, 
and  throw  us  in  the  air.  Guess  you  will  have  to  take 
the  nomination  yourself,  and  run  on  a  platform  of 
seven  words,  '  Here's  to  the  boys,  God  bless  'em,' "  and 
the  red-headed  boy  got  under  Uncle  Ike's  arm,  and 
the  gang  went  in  to  breakfast,  Uncle  Ike  trying  to 
argue  against  being  nominated,  and  having  to  go  to 
the  White  House  with  a  lot  of  tough  boys  making 
life  a  burden  to  him,  when  he  would  have  to  get  mar 
ried,  for  no  President  is  a  success  as  a  bachelor,  as 
Cleveland  found  out.  As  Uncle  Ike  got  the  boys  ail 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy 

around  the  table,  he  bent  his  head  and  reverently 
asked  a  blessing — something  he  had  never  done  before 
in  the  presence  of  the  red-headed  boy,  and  when  the 
meal  was  over  and  the  boys  had  all  gone  away,  except 
the  warm-haired  one,  and  Uncle  Ike  had  begun  to 
smoke  again,  the  boy  said  to  him : 

"  Uncle  Ike,  I  did  not  know  that  you  belonged  to 
any  church." 

"  Well,  I  don't,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he  got  up  and 
looked  out  of  the  window,  and  blew  smoke  at  a  fly 
that  was  buzzing  on  the  glass. 

"  Then  how  could  you  ask  a  blessing,  and  expect 
that  it  will  be  heard  ?  I  supposed  a  person  had  to  be 
initiated  in  a  church,  and  be  sworn  in,  and  given  the 
password,  and  take  the  degrees,  before  he  was  or 
dained  to  ask  a  blessing,"  said  the  boy. 

"No,  that  is  not  necessary,"  the  old  man  said. 
"Now,  you  haven't  got  much  religion,  and  never  jined, 
but  you  give  thanks  to  the  Lord  quite  often.  When 
you  are  happy,  and  enjoying  yourself,  and  smile  and 
laugh,  you  are  unconsciously  thanking  the  Ruler  for 
making  things  so  comfortable.  All  pleasure  is  made 
possible  by  a  higher  power,  and  all  you  got  to  do  is  to 
feel  grateful,  same  as  you  would  to  me  if  I  gave  you 
a  dollar,  and  there  you  are.  You  just  be  square,  and 
do  business  on  the  golden  rule  plan,  and  you  have  got 
a  heap  more  religion  than  some  people  who  are  blat- 
ting  about  all  the  time.  I  just  thought  I  would  par 
alyze  you  kids  by  showing  you  that  I  was  all  wool, 
and  wanted  the  Lord  to  keep  tab  on  us,  and  know 


Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

that  we  appreciated  good  health,  and  all  that.  Now, 
you  go  to  school,  and  don't  say  anything  to  that  blue- 
eyed  teacher  of  yours  that  you  have  nominated  me 
for  President.  I  don't  want  to  get  girls  after  me, 
thinking  they  will  be  mistress  of  the  White  House," 
and  the  old  man  took  his  gun  and  went  down  into  the 
marsh  looking  for  snipe. 


and  the  Red- headed  Boy 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Uncle  Ike  had  been  reading  the  morning  paper,  as 
he  sat  before  the  grate  fire,  in  the  sitting  room,  while 
the  red-headed  boy  was  using  a  slate  and  pencil  trying, 
to  figure  out  something  to  make  it  match  the  answer 
as  given  in  the  arithmetic,  and  having  guessed  the  an 
swer  right  he  was  drawing  a  picture  of  Uncle  Ike  and 
his  pipe,  and  occasionally  wetting  his  finger  in  his 
mouth  and  rubbing  out  some  feature  of  the  old.  man 
that  didn't  suit.  He  had  the  old  man  pictured  in  a 
football  costume  of  padded  trousers,  nose  guard,  ear 
guard,  knee  pads,  and  all  the  different  things  used  in 
football,  and  when  he  showed  the  picture  to  Uncle 
Ike,  that  old  citizen  sighed,  though  he  looked  a  bit 
pleased  that  he  should  be  the  study  of  so  eminent  an 
artist.  Uncle  Ike  had  been  reading  that  there  was  to 
be  a  football  game  that  afternoon,  between  the  State 
university  and  Beloit  college,  and  he  wanted  to  go 
like  a  dog,  but  he  had  abused  football  so  much  that 
he  was  ashamed  to  speak  of  going. 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  interested  in  that  disreputable 
game,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his 
pipe  on  the  andirons  of  the  fireplace.  "I  hope  you 
don't  want  to  go  and  see  respectable  boys  maimed  and 
killed,  and  knocked  down  and  dragged  out,  and  sand 
bagged,  and  brained.  I  have  seen  a  bull  fight  in 
Mexico,  but  I  never  want  to  see  anything  as  bloody 


194  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

as  a  football  game,"  and  the  old  man  winked  to  him 
self,  and  filled  the  pipe. 

"  Oh,  what  you  giving  me  ?  "  said  the  boy,  jumping 
up  in  indignation.  "Football  is  no  worse  than  the 
old-fashioned  pullaway  you  used  to  play.  I  am  going 
to  see  this  game  through  a  knothole  in  the  fence  I 
rented  from  a  boy  who  has  the  knothole  concession  at 
the  baseball  park." 

"No,  you  don't,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  "you  will  go  in 
the  gate  like  a  gentleman.  No  nephew  of  mine  is  go 
ing  to  grow  up  and  be  a  knothole  audience.  You  get 
two  or  three  of  your  chums  and  come  around  here 
about  2  o'clock,  and  I  will  go  with  you,  and  stand  be 
tween  you  and  the  sluggers,  and  see  this  game  out.  I 
don't  want  to  go,  and  detest  the  game,  but  I  will  go 
to  please  you,"  and  the  old  man  looked  wise  and 
fatherly. 

"  Oh,  you  don't  want  to  go,  like  the  way  the  woman 
kept  tavern  in  Michigan,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  edged 
toward  the  door. 

"  How  was  it  that  the  woman  kept  the  hotel  in 
Michigan  ? "  he  asked,  looking  mad. 

"  Like  hades,"  said  the  boy,  "  only  the  man  who 
told  me  about  it  said  she  kept  tavern  like  h — 1,  but  I 
wouldn't  say  that  in  the  presence  of  my  dear  old 
uncle,"  and  the  boy  slipped  out  ahead  of  a  slipper  that 
was  kicked  at  him  by  the  laughing  old  man. 

So  in  the  afternoon  Uncle  Ike,  the  red-headed  boy 
and  two  chums  appeared  at  the  gate,  the  old  man 
plunked  down  two  dollars  with  a  chuckle,  asked  if  he 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  195 

could  smoke  his  pipe  in  there,  and  was  told  that  he 
could  smoke  a  factory  chimney  if  he  wanted  to,  and 
they  went  in  and  got  seats  on  the  bleachers,  and  as 
they  sat  down  the  old  man  said  it  was  almost  exactly 
like  the  bull  ring  in  Mexico.  The  boys  explained  to 
him  that  the  red  ribbons  were  university  colors  and 
the  yellow  belonged  to  Beloit,  and  he  must  choose 
which  side  he  would  root  for.  As  the  red  matched 
his  flannel  underwear  and  his  flushed  face,  he  said  he 
was  for  the  university,  and  then  the  boys  explained 
the  game,  about  carrying  the  ball,  getting  touchdowns, 
kicking  goal,  and  half-back  and  quarter-back,  and  when 
the  teams  came  in  and  the  crowd  yelled,  Uncle  Ike  felt 
hurt,  because  it  made  so  much  noise,  and  people  acted 
crazy.  Uncle  Ike  looked  the  players  over,  and  he  said 
that  big  fellow  from  Beloit  was  John  L.  Sullivan  in  dis 
guise,  and  wanted  him  ruled  off.  The  play  began, 
the  ball  shot  out  behind  the  crowd,  a  man  grabbed  it 
and  started  to  run,  when  someone  grabbed  him  by  the 
legs  and  he  went  down,  with  the  whole  crowd  on  top 
of  him.  Uncle  Ike  raised  up  on  his  feet  and  waved 
his  pipe,  and  when  one  of  the  men  did  not  get  up  and 
they  brought  water  and  tried  to  bring  him  back  to 
life,  he  shouted  :  "  That  is  murder.  I  saw  that  fellow 
with  the  black  socks  strike  him  with  a  hatchet.  Po 
lice!"  but  someone  behind  him  yelled  to  him  to  sit 
down,  and  the  red-headed  boy  pulled  his  coat  tail,  he 
sat  down,  and  the  game  went  on,  but  Uncle  Ike  was 
mad,  because  the  dead  boy  was  playing  as  lively  as 
anybody. 


196  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

Then  a  man  got  the  ball  and  started  on  a  run  down 
the  field,  with  the  whole  crowd  after  him,  and  finally 
they  got  him  down  and  Uncle  Ike  stood  up  again  and 
said :  "  Stop  the  game.  I  saw  a  fellow  trip  him  up, 
and  pound  him  with  a  billy,  and  stab  him.  Say,  boys, 
he's  dead,  sure.  Where's  the  police  ?  Ain't  there 
no  ambulance  here  ?  Kill  the  umpire !  "  he  shouted, 
remembering  that  he  was  an  old  baseball  fan. 

"  Oh,  don't  worry,  Uncle  Ike,  they  are  all  right," 
said  the  boy,  waving  a  long  piece  of  red  ribbon,  as  the 
two  bands  tried  to  play  a  "  Hot  Time  "  and  a  waltz  at 
the  same  time.  "  Now  watch  the  kangaroo  kick  off," 
and  as  he  kicked  the  ball  the  whole  length  of  the 
field  the  old  man  simply  sat  still  and  said  : 

"  Gee  whiz,  but  that  was  a  corker.  U-rah-u-rah!" 
and  the  only  way  to  stop  him  was  to  feed  him  peanuts. 

From  an  enemy  of  football  the  old  man  was  rapidly 
becoming  its  friend.  When  the  men  came  together 
at  first,  and  went  down  in  a  heap,  legs  flying  in  all  di 
rections,  and  noises  like  heavy  blows  coming  to  him, 
he  would  swear  he  saw  a  man  strike  another  with  a 
mallet,  but  later  in  the  game  he  said  it  served  the 
man  right,  and  he  ought  to  have  been  hit  with  an  ax, 
and  before  the  game  was  over  he  was  so  interested 
that  he  got  down  off  the  bleachers,  leaned  over  the 
railing  and  yelled  at  the  combatants  to  eat  'em  up, 
and  when  the  game  was  over  he  rushed  into  the  field, 
hugging  the  players,  and  saying  that  it  was  the  great 
est  thing  that  ever  was,  and  offering  to  act  as  one  of 
the  bearers  to  the  funeral,  if  anybody  had  been  killed, 


198  Peck's   Uncle  Ike 

and  when  the  boys  got  him  out  of  the  grounds  he 
took  up  the  whole  sidewalk,  waving  his  ribbons,  tied 
on  his  cane,  shouting  the  university  yell  till  he  frothed 
at  the  mouth,  and  on  the  way  home  he  took  the  boys 
into  a  store  and  bought  them  a  new  football,  and  in 
sisted  that  they  come  into  the  front  yard  and  play  a 
game  even-  morning,  and  offered  to  have  the  shrub 
bery  cut  down  to  give  them  room.  As  they  got  home, 
and  the  other  boys  had  gone  away,  the  red-headed 
boy  said : 

"  Uncle  Ike,  you  have  disgraced  the  whole  family. 
You  went  to  the  football  game  under  protest,  a  quiet, 
inoffensive  citizen,  ostensibly  to  take  care  of  us  boys, 
and  the  first  jump  out  of  the  box  you  got  crazy,  and 
we  had  a  terrible  time  to  get  you  home.  I  don't  sup 
pose  you  remember  what  you  did  do  out  there.  Do 
you  remember  of  putting  your  arm  around  a  strange 
lady,  and  hugging  her,  and  telling  her  to  yell  ?  Her 
husband  is  looking  for  you  with  a  gun.  Do  you  re 
member  of  grabbing  a  young  woman  sitting  in  front  of 
you,  just  as  they  made  a  touchdown,  pulling  her  head 
over  into  your  lap,  and  patting  her  cheeks  with  your 
great  big  hands,  and  telling  her  she  ought  to  marry  a 
football  player?  Her  brother  is  coming  up  street 
now  with  a  baseball  club.  I  suppose  you  have  no 
recollection  of  jumping  up  and  sitting  down  in  the  lap 
of  a  woman  in  the  seat  behind  you,  throwing  your 
arms  around  her,  and  telling  her  she  was  a  darling 
and  squeezing  her  till  you  broke  her  corset.  She  says 
you  offered  her  marriage,  and  her  lawyer  will  be  here 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  199 

in  the  morning  to  find  out  what  you  are  going  to  do 
about  it.  I  think  you  better  be  examined  by  doctors 
to  see  if  you  are  not  getting  nutty,  and  let  them  send 
you  to  a  sanitarium,"  and  the  boy  sighed,  and  looked 
at  the  old  man  as  though  his  heart  was  broken. 

"  Say,  did  I  do  any  of  those  things  ? "  asked  Uncle 
Ike,  as  he  got  up  and  looked  out  of  the  window,  and 
then  locked  the  door,  and  acted  frightened.  "  Well, 
I'll  be  dumbed!  I  recollect  the  woman  in  front  zf 
me,  and  the  one  behind,  but  I  pledge  you  my  word 
that  I  did  not  know  that  I  hugged  anybody.  I  am 
willing  to  apologize,  but  "I'll  be  condemned  if  I  marry 
any  of  'em,  and  I'm  not  crazy.  That  confounded 
game  got  me  all  mixed  up,  and  I  may  have  acted  dif 
ferent  from  what  1  would  ordinarily,  but  it  was  not  my 
intention  to  propose  to  any  female." 

"But  say,  Uncle  Ike,  what  did  you  think  of  the 
game  as  a  means  of  building  up  muscle,  pluck,  push, 
get  there,  and  general  usefulness?"  asked  the  boy. 

"  Greatest  thing  I  ever  saw,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  he 
looked  out  of  the  window,  to  see  if  any  females  he 
might  have  hugged  in  his  excitement  were  out  there 
waiting  for  him.  "  Say,  I  saw  young  fellows  in  that 
game  that  I  used  to  know,  who  would  cry  if  taken 
across  their  father's  knee,  and  beg  for  mercy,  and 
they  would  rush  into  the  most  dangerous  position, 
and  if  knocked  silly  they  would  smile,  never  groan, 
and  suck  a  swallow  of  water  out  of  a  sponge,  and  go 
in  for  another  knockdown.  That  game  will  make  men 
of  the  weak  boys,  and  cause  them  to  be  afraid  of 


?oo  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

nothing  that  walks.  The  boy  who  pushes,  and  tackles, 
and  runs  through  a  wilderness  of  other  boys  who  are 
trying  to  down  him,  and  get  his  pigskin  away,  will  be 
come  the  pushing  business  man  who  will  go  through 
the  line  of  business  progress,  and  make  a  touchdown 
in  his  enterprise,  and  he  will  kick  a  commercial  or  pro 
fessional  goal,  over  the  heads  of  all  competitors.  Life 
is  only  a  football  game,  after  all.  Every  man  in  busi 
ness  who  is  worth  his  salt  is  a  pusher,  a  shover,  a 
tackier,  a  punter,  or  half-back,  and  the  unsuccessful 
ones  are  the  ones  who  carry  the  water  to  bring  the 
business  players  to,  4when  they  become  overheated, 
and  do  the  yelling  and  hurrahing  when  the  pushing 
business  man  in  the  football  game  of  life  makes  a 
touchdown.  It  is  these  rough  players  that  become 
the  rough  riders  when  war  comes  to  the  country,  and 
they  rush  the  ball  up  San  Juan  hill  in  the  face  of  the 
Spanish  tacklers,  and  the  interference  of  barbed  wire 
and  other  things.  War  is  a  football  game  also,  and 
the  recruiting  officers  are  not  looking  for  the  weak 
sisters  who  can't  push  and  shove,  and  fight,  and  fall 
over  each  other,  and  when  wounded  laugh  and  say  it 
is  nothing  serious.  A  country  that  has  a  majority  of 
its  boys  growing  up  to  fight  on  the  football  field  for 
fun,  has  no  cause  to  fear  any  war  that  may  come  to  it, 
for  if  they  will  fight  like  that  in  good  nature,  to  uphold 
the  colors  of  their  college,  what  will  they  do  to  uphold 
'Old  Glory,'  which  comprises  the  dearest  colors  in  all 
the  world?  Yes,  boy,  you  can  go  on  playing  football, 
and  if  you  are  injured  your  Uncle  Ike  will  pay  all  the 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  201 

expenses,  and  sit  up  nights  with  you,  but  you  better 
not  take  me  to  any  more  games,  for  the  first  thing 
you  know  I  will  be  bringing  home  here  more  wives 
than  that  Utah  congressman  has  got.  Now,  go  rest 
up,  and  next  week  I  will  take  you  to  see  President 
McKinley,  at  the  hotel  here,  and  you  will  see  him 
throw  his  arms  around  me  and  say, '  Hello,  Uncle  Ike ! ' 
I  used  to  know  him  when  he  wasn't  President,"  and 
Uncle  Ike  dismissed  the  boy,  and  sat  by  the  window 
till  dark,  looking  out  to  see  if  anybody  was  coming  to 
claim  his  hand  in  marriage,  and  wondering  if  he  did 
make  as  big  a  fool  of  himself  at  the  football  game  as 
the  boys  said  he  did. 


Peck's  Uncle.  Ike 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

It  was  Sunday  afternoon,  and  Uncle  Ike  had  been 
to  church  with  the  red-headed  boy,  and  they  had  lis 
tened  to  a  sermon  on  patriotism,  and  the  minister 
had  expressed  himself  on  the  subject  of  the  Philip* 
pines,  and  the  duty  the  President  owed  to  civilization 
to  keep  on  killing  those  negroes  until  they  learned 
better  than  to  kick  at  having  a  strange  race  of  people 
boss  them  around,  and  Uncle  Ike  had  walked  home 

* 

along  the  bank  of  the  lake,  and  breathed  the  free  air  that 
was  his  because  his  ancestors  had  conquered  it  from 
England,  and  he  couldn't  help  having  a  little  sympa 
thy  for  those  Filipinos  who  had  been  bought  from 
a  country  that  didn't  own  them,  by  a  country  that 
had  no  use  for  them,  and  wished  it  could  get  rid  of 
them  honorably,  without  hurting  the  political  party 
that  was  acting  as  overseer  over  them.  He  didn't 
want  to  seem  disloyal  to  a  country  that  he  loved  and 
had  fought  to  preserve,  but  when  he  thought  of  those 
poor,  ignorant  people,  trying  to  learn  what  freedom 
meant,  and  what  there  was  in  it  for  them,  studying 
the  constitution  of  the  United  States  to  find  out  how 
to  be  good  and  great,  and  dodging  bullets,  he  felt  as 
though  he  wished  he  knew  just  what  the  Savior  of 
Man  would  do  in  the  matter  if  He  had  been  elected 
President.  He  had  left  the  red-headed  boy  at  Sun 
day-school,  and  now  they  were  both  back  home,  wait- 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  203 

ing  for  the  dinner  bell  to  ring.  The  boy  was  study-1 
ing  some  pamphlet  he  had  brought  home,  and  looking 
mighty  serious. 

"Any  great  problem  been  presented  to  you  at 
Sunday- school  that  you  are  unable  to  solve?"  said 
Uncle  Ike,  as  he  walked  by  the  boy  and  tried  to 
stroke  *.he  corrugated  lines  out  of  his  forehead,  and 
patted  him  on  the  head.  "For  if  there  is  anything 
you  are  in  doubt  about,  all  you  got  to  do  is  to  let  your 
Uncle  Ike  be  umpire,  and  he  will  straighten  it  out 
for  you." 

"Thank  you,  awfully,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  dropped 
his  book,  walked  up  to  the  old  man,  and  looked  him 
squarely  in  the  face.  "  You  are  the  man  I  have  been 
looking  for.  Uncle  Ike,  suppose  a  man  should  haul 
off,  without  provocation,  and  smash  you  on  the  side  of 
the  face,  a  regular  stinger,  that  would  jar  your  head 
until  you  could  see  stars,  what  would  you  do  ?" 

"Oh,  say,  that  is  an  easy  one,"  said  the  old  man, 
as  he  filled  the  pipe  and  lighted  it,  and  threw  the 
match  in  the  grate.  "  Do  you  know  what  I  would  do  ? 
I  would  give  him  one  on  the  nose  with  my  left  hand, 
and  when  he  was  off  his  guard  I  would  paste  him  one 
under  the  ear,  or  on  the  point  of  the  jaw,  and  then  I 
would  stand  over  him  and  count  ten,  and  if  he  came 
to,  I  would  give  him  some  more,  and  when  he  had  got 
enough,  I  would  say  to  him  :  « Now,  when  you  feel 
that  way  again,  and  want  to  enjoy  yourself,  you  come 
right  to  me,  for  I  don't  have  any  too  much  exercise, 
Anyway.'  But  why  do  you  ask  ?  YOU  knew  all  the 


1O4  Peck's  Uncle  Tke 

time  what  I  would  do  it  a  man  hit  me,"  and  the  old 
man  walked  around  the  room  as  though  he  would  like 
to  see  someone  hit  him. 

"That's  what  I  feared,"  said  the  boy,  as  the  twink 
les  played  around  his  eyes.  "You  see,  among  the 
verses  in  the  Sunday-school  lesson  was  this  one,  'If 
they  smite  you  on  one  cheek,  turn  the  other  cheek, 
also,'  and  I  thought  I  would  like  to  get  the  opinion  of 
an  expert  as  to  how  to  go  about  it,  to  turn  the  other 
cheek  the  right  way." 

"  Say,  here,  you  don't  take  advantage  of  an  old  man 
that  way,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  as  the  boy  began  laughing. 
"  When  you  ask  questions  like  that  you  want  to  read 
the  verse  first,  and  give  a  man  a  chance.  'Course,  if 
they  smite  you  on  one  cheek,  you  want  to  do  just 
what  the  Bible  says.  Some  of  you  kids  make  me 
tired,"  and  the  old  man  wished  dinner  was  ready,  so 
they  could  change  the  subject. 

"  I  told  my  teacher  I  didn't  see  hov  a  fellow  could 
turn  the  other  cheek,  also,  and  maintain  his  standing 
in  society,  but  she  said  it  was  the  way  to  do,  and  then 
the  Sunday-school  superintendent  came  along,  and  she 
asked  him  about  it.  He  belongs  to  the  athletic  club 
of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  and  I  have  seen  him  box  with 
soft  gloves,  and  he  said  it  was  right  to  turn  the  other 
cheek,  but  I  noticed  he  smiled,  and  then  the  minister 
visited  our  class,  and  the  teacher  asked  him  to  im 
press  on  us  boys  the  idea  of  turning  the  other  cheek. 
He  looked  pious,  and  said  you  must  turn  the  other 


44 1  wc-uld  give  him  one  on  the  nose  with  my  left  hand." 
*05 


106  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

cheek  when  smote,  as  it  showed  a  meek  and  forgiving 
disposition,  but  I  know  the  minister  is  a  boxer,  also, 
and  I  heard  that  he  almost  jarred  the  head  off  a  tramp 
last  summer  for  sassing  him,  so  I  am  worried  as  to 
what  it  is  best  to  do,  in  a  case  of  smoting.  The 
teacher,  you  know  her,  the  pretty  girl  that  let  you 
hold  her  hand  so  long  at  the  picnic,  when  you  was  in 
troduced  to  her,  and  you  told  her  you  used  to  know 
her  mother  when  she  was  a  girl,  and  used  to  go  with 
her,  and  all  that  rot,  she  told  me  I  better  talk  it  over 
with  you,  Uncle  Ike,  and  see  what  you  thought  about 
it.  So  you  honestly  think  it  is  best  for  a  boy  to  grow 
up  letting  people  get  in  the  habit  of  smiting,  so  to 
see  him  turn  his  other  cheek,  and  get  another  bat  on 
that  cheek,  eh  ?  Don't  you  think  a  boy  that  takes 
that  kind  of  medicine,  without  making  up  a  face, 
ought  to  say,  '  Thank  you,  ever  so  much,'  and  always 
wear  pinafores,  and  stay  in  the  kindergarten,  and  if 
he  ever  grows  up  and  goes  into  business  he  better  be 
come  a  he-milliner,  or  a  manicure,  say  ?  It's  up  to  you, 
now,  Uncle  Ike,  and  I  am  ready  to  listen,  and  to  fol 
low  your  advice,  and  be  a  boy  or  a  girl,  just  as  you 
say,  but  I  don't  know  any  girl  in  my  set  that  would 
let  anybody  smite  her  much,  without  pulling  hair  a 
little,  at  least." 

Uncle  Ike  had  been  thinking  pretty  hard,  as  the 
boy  talked,  had  let  his  pipe  go  out,  and  his  face  had 
taken  on  a  serious  look,  a  look  also  of  pride  as  he  lis 
tened  to  the  boy,  but  he  was  trying  to  think  how  to 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  107 

steer  him  right  on  that  turning  the  other  cheek  alsc 
business.  He  fumbled  for  the  tobacco  bag,  and  as 
he  emptied  some  tobacco  into  the  pipe,  his  hand  was 
unsteady,  and  he  spilled  a  good  deal  on  the  floor,  and 
he  had  to  scratch  two  or  three  matches  on  his  pants 
before  he  could  get  one  that  wouldn't  break  off,  or  go 
out.  Finally  he  got  the  pipe  lighted,  and  he  puffed  a 
long  time,  and  looked  at  himself  in  the  big  mirror 
over  the  mantel,  to  see  if  he  was  looking  his  best,  and 
finally  he  said : 

"I'll  tell  you,  my  boy,  I  don't  think  they  are  turn 
ing  the  other  cheek  also  when  smote,  as  much  as  they 
used  to.  The  theory  is  all  right,  and  if  everybody 
would  do  so,  there  would  not  be  any  trouble,  and  all 
would  be  peace.  I  suppose  that  verse  in  the  Bible 
was  written  when  the  Jews  were  trying  to  get  along 
without  having  scraps  all  the  time.  There  were  peo 
ple  there,  Jew-baiters,  I  suppose,  who  just  laid  for 
them,  and  knowing  them  to  be  opposed  to  a  fight, 
they  would  smash  them,  and  on  the  advice  of  leaders 
they  would  turn  the  other  cheek,  and  go  home  with  a 
black  eye.  I  don't  suppose  I  could  write  a  Bible  half 
as  good  as  the  old  one,  but  I  think  if  that  verse  had 
been  changed  a  little,  so  the  Jews  would  have  stood 
up  for  their  rights,  and  everlastingly  lambasted  any 
body  that  came  around  jarring  them  on  the  cheeks, 
and  been  brought  up  to  fight  their  way  through,  from 
Jerusalem  to  France,  things  would  have  been  differ 
ent.  But,  as  I  say,  things  have  changed  a  good  deal 


2o8  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

since  Bible  times.  I  think,  now,  if  I  was  a  boy,  grow 
ing  up  to  take  my  place  in  the  business  world,  I 
might  try  to  forget  that  verse,  or  think  of  it  as  we  do 
of  the  Golden  Rule,  or  the  '  love  one  another '  verse. 
You  may  try  as  hard  as  you  like  and  you  can't  love 
your  neighbor  as  yourself,  unless  he,  or  she,  as  the 
case  may  be,  is  a  lovable  person,  and  loves  back. 
There  can  be  no  arbitrary  rules  that  will  bind  you 
against  what  you  think  is  right.  Suppose  your  neigh 
bor  is  a  horsethief,  or  a  liar,  who  belongs  to  another 
political  party,  and  backbites,  and  steals  your  wood, 
and  kicks  your  dog,  and  puts  up  jobs  on  you,  how  you 
going  to  love  that  neighbor  as  yourself?  Two  or 
three  thousand  years  ago  maybe  these  things  would 
have  been  all  right,  when  they  didn't  have  any  news 
papers,  and  trolley  cars,  and  there  was  no  business  ex 
cept  selling  fish,  and  no  money  but  coppers.  I'll  tell 
you  how  I  shall  bring  up  my  boys,  when  I  have  any,  and 
that  is  to  keep  their  cheeks  away  from  the  smoter  who 
smotes.  Be  on  your  guard,  and  if  a  boy  tries  to  smite  you 
on  one  cheek,  you  duck,  and  side-step,  and  smile  at  him, 
and  keep  your  hands  up  so  if  he  makes  a  feint  to 
smite  you  on  one  cheek,  just  stand  him  off,  and  may 
be  he  will  think  that  you  are  onto  his  smiting  on  the 
cheek  business  yourself,  and  are  no  chicken,  that  is 
going  to  keep  cheeks  for  other  people  to  smite,  and  he 
may  quit,  and  you  can  laugh  over  it,  and  consider  the 
incident  closed.  But  if  he  gets  gay,  and  it  seems  to 
be  his  day  to  smite  cheeks,  and  he  acts  as  though  he 


and  the  Red-headed  Toy 

had  picked  you  out  fo~  a  3C*t  mark,  and  rushes  in  to 
do  you  up,  if  I  ever  hear  c*  your  running,  or  putting 
your  hands  down,  and  letting  him  biff  you,  one,  two, 
on  both  cheeks,  and  you  come  home  here  crying,  with 
the  nosebleed,  and  your  eye  blacked,  and  you  haven't 
done  a  thing  to  that  cheek  smiter,  I  will  warm  your 
jacket  so  you  will  think  there  is  a  hornets'  nest  in  it, 
hear  me  ?"  and  the  old  man  looked  cross  and  sassy. 
"  No,  sir  ;  you  just  let  him  search  for  your  cheeks,  and 
if  he  won't  quit,  you  finally  give  him  your  left  in  the 
neck,  and  side-step,  and  keep  out  of  his  way,  and  if 
he  wants  more,  find  a  place  where  there  is  an  opening, 
and  jab  him  until  he  quits  looking  for  cheeks  to  smite, 
and  other  cheeks  to  turn  also.  I  don't  know  as  it  is 
right,  but  turning  the  other  cheek  also  has  gone  out 
of  style,  and  nobody  is  doing  it  that  has  got  any 
gravel  in  their  crop.  Don't  let  me  ever  catch  you 
fighting,  that  is,  bringing  on  a  fight,  but  don't  you 
ever  let  anybody  use  you  to  practice  that  verse  on, 
because  your  minister  or  your  Sunday-school  superin 
tendent  wouldn't  allow  anybody  to  smite  them  without 
getting  hurt." 

"Well,  I  like  that,"  said  the  boy,  getting  up  and 
starting  for  the  dining  room.  "I  will  do  just  as 
you  say,  Uncle  Ike,  and  try  to  avoid  trouble.  But 
what  shall  I  tell  that  blue-eyed  teacher  you  advised 
me — the  one,  you  know,  that  you  was  so  sweet  on  at 
the  picnic  ?" 

"  Oh,  tell  her  I  told  you  to  try  and  grow  up  to  be 


Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

a  regular  thoroughbred,  like  your  Uncle  Ike,  and  only 
turn  the  other  cheek  to  girls,  see !  And  tell  her  I 
never  squeezed  anybody's  hand  at  a  picnic,  unless 
they  commenced  it,  by  gosh !"  and  the  old  man  took 
the  red-headed  boy  in  his  arms  and  carried  him  bodily 
into  the  dining  room,  and  there  was  a  smile  on  his 
good  old  face  that  was  good  to  look  upon. 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  Alt 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Uncle  Ike  had  met  with  a  misfortune  that  troubled 
him,  and  he  was  smoking  and  trying  to  think  of  some 
way  to  explain  the  affair.  All  his  life  he  had  been 
an  all-around  sport,  and  duck  shooting  had  been  his 
hobby.  He  had  prided  himself  that  he  could  ride 
any  boat  that  an  Indian  could,  and  bragged  that  he 
had  never  got  his  feet  wet  in  his  forty  years  as  a  duck 
shooter ;  but  this  morning  he  had  gone  out  in  a  boat, 
before  anybody  was  up  about  the  house,  and  when  he 
was  not  looking,  a  wave  tipped  the  boat  up  on  one 
side,  filled  it  with  water,  and  had  gone  down  with 
him  before  he  could  say  Jack  Robinson,  and  he  had 
floundered  around  in  mud  and  water  up  to  his  arm 
pits,  singing  "  A  life  on  the  ocean  wave,"  and  yelling 
for  somebody  to  come  and  tie  him  loose.  A  neigh 
bor  had  come  with  a  boat,  and  dragged  him  ashore, 
and  he  had  taken  off  his  wet  clothes,  hung  them  on 
the  fence  to  dry,  put  on  some  dry  clothes,  and  he  was 
smoking  his  pipe  and  wringing  the  water  out  of  his 
wet  pants,  when  the  red-headed  boy  came  out  t«  in 
quire  into  the  marine  disaster. 

"Getting  your  washing  out  pretty  early  in  the 
morning,  Uncle  Ike,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  lifted  a  wet 
sweater  off  the  fence,  and  took  some  wet  cartridges 
out  of  the  pockets.  "  Is  it  healthy  to  go  in  swimming 
with  so  many  clothes  on  ?  How  did  this  thing  hap 
pen,  anyway  ? " 


Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

"  Now,  don't  get  gay,"  said  Uncle  Ike,  "  and  I  will 
tell  you.  It  was  blowing  a  hurricane,  and  the  wind 
took  the  boat  up  in  the  air  about  ten  feet,  and  it  dove 
down  head  first,  and  what  could  I  do  but  get  out  ? 
A  cramp  took  me  in  the  leg,  and  I  stood  on  t'other 
leg,  but  I  wasn't  afraid.  I  didn't  yell,  but  just  said 
to  a  man  who  was  about  half  a  mile  away,  says  I, 
'  Kindly  assist  me  to  land,'  and  he  took  me  by  the 
shirt  collar  and  escorted  me  to  the  shore." 

"I  see,"  said  the  boy;  "you  whispered  to  him, 
when  he  was  half  a  mile  away,  but  did  not  yell  for 
help.  Oh,  you're  a  mark,  trying  to  make  believe  you 
are  young  enough  to  enjoy  sport.  Say,  you  ought  to 
have  a  shawl  strap  on  you,  so  your  rescuer  can  have 
something  to  take  hold  of;  and  if  I  were  in  your 
place,  I  would  get  the  dimensions  of  Noah's  ark, 
and  have  one  made  to  fit  me.  You  better  buy  your 
ducks,  and  stay  on  land.  But  now  that  the  Prodigal 
Uncle  has  got  back,  I  am  going  out  to  kill  a  fatted 
calf,  and  we  will  have  a  calf  banquet.  Say,  Uncle 
Ike,  did  you  ever  read  about  the  Prodigal  Son  ?  We 
had  it  in  our  Sunday-school  lesson  last  Sunday.  They 
didn't  do  a  thing  to  him,  did  they  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  have  read  about  the  Prodigal  Son,  and  I 
jive  it  to  you  straight — he  was  the  greatest  chump 
mentioned  in  the  Bible,  and  sometimes  I  think  you 
are  a  dead  ringer  for  him  !  "  and  the  old  man  laughed 
at  the  boy. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  poured 
some  water  out  of  Uncle  Ike's  rubber  boots,  that 


i 


"A  life  on  the  ocean  wave.' 


214  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

hung  on  the  fence;  "you  and  Noah  size  up  about 
right.  If  you  had  been  running  that  ark,  you  would 
have  spilled  the  whole  outfit,  and  nobody  ever  would 
have  got  ashore.  But  that  Prodigal  Son  makes  me 
tired.  He  was  a  regular  jay.  He  run  away  from 
home,  and  got  in  with  a  terrible  crowd,  and  they 
pulled  his  leg  for  all  the  money  he  had.  They 
steered  him  up  against  barrel  houses,  and  filled  him 
with  liquor  that  would  burn  a  hole  in  a  copper  kettle, 
got  him  mixed  up  with  queer  women,  and  he  painted 
the  towns  red ;  and  when  hjs  money  was  all  gone, 
they  kicked  him  out  with  a  case  of  indigestion  and  a 
head  on  him  that  hurt  so  he  could  not  wink  without 
thinking  there  was  an  earthquake.  Say,  Uncle  Ike, 
do  you  know  that  fellow  had  some  sense  after  all  ? 
When  he  found  that  all  his  new-found  friends  wanted 
was  his  money,  and  to  help  him  spend  it,  and  that 
they  shook  him  when  it  was  gone,  he  had  a  right  to 
be  disgusted  with  the  world ;  and  if  he  had  been  like 
some  of  our  present  day  prodigals,  he  would  have 
turned  tramp,  or  held  up  a  train,  or  stolen  a  horse 
and  been  lynched;  but  he  just  tumbled  to  himself 
and  took  the  first  job  that  came  along,  herding  hogs, 
but  he  didn't  live  high.  He  worked  for  his  board  and 
furnished  his  own  husks.  Do  you  know,  I  can't  help 
thinking  the  man  that  hired  Prod,  to  drive  hogs  was 
in  a  trust,  and  made  all  the  money  there  was  in  the 
deal.  But  he  was  repaid  for  all  his  suffering.  When 
he  thought  of  the  old  folks  at  home,  and  drew  his 
wages  and  started  back,  without  clothes  enough  on 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy  2 15 

him  to  wad  a  gun,  thinking  maybe  they  would  stick 
up  their  noses  and  say  he  smelled  bad,  and  quarantine 
him,  and  make  him  take  a  bath,  but,  instead  of  doing 
so,  they  just  fell  on  his  neck  and  wept,  and  set  up  a 
calf  lunch  for  him,  he  must  have  thought  the  world 
was  worth  living  in.  Uncle  Ike,  were  you  ever  a 
prodigal  son?"  and  the  boy  turned  over  the  wet 
clothes  so  the  sun  would  dry  the  other  side. 

"Yes,  sir,  I  have  been  a  prodigal  son,  and  every 
boy  who  goes  away  from  home  to  make  his  own  liv 
ing  is  a  prodigal  son,  in  a  way,"  and  he  and  the  boy 
sat  down  under  a  tree,  the  one  to  talk  and  the  other 
to  listen.  "  When  a  boy  decides  to  leave  the  old 
roof  tree  at  home  to  go  out  into  the  world,  it  is  most 
always  against  the  wishes  of  his  parents ;  but  he  ar 
gues  with  them,  and  finally  prevails  on  them  to  let 
him  go.  It  is  what  he  amounts  to  after  he  gets  away 
that  makes  him  either  a  prodigal  or  a  thoroughbred. 
If  a  boy  goes  into  bad  company,  and  thinks  the  world 
is  made  to  spend  unearned  money  in,  instead  of  to 
earn  money  in  and  save  it,  it  is  only  a  matter  of  time 
when  he  comes  back  home  a  prodigal  son,  either 
alive  and  needing  a  doctor  and  a  mother's  care,  or  he 
comes  in  a  box  to  be  buried,  his  father  to  pay  the  ex 
press  charges.  On  the  other  hand,  if  he  gets  a  job, 
doing  something,  anything,  masters  the  business,  and 
becomes  a  valuable  citizen,  maybe  in  time  at  the  head 
of  his  profession  or  business,  some  day  he  comes  home 
to  the  old  folks,  and  there  are  smiles  instead  of  tears, 
a  brass  band  instead  of  the  singing  by  the  funeral 


216  Peck's  Uncle  Ike 

choir,  and  he  pays  the  mortgage  on  the  old  home 
stead,  instead  of  having  his  father  pay  express  charges 
on  the  remains.  That  is  the  difference.  All  boys 
can  be  prodigals  if  they  have  the  prodigal  bacillus  in 
their  systems  when  they  go  out  into  the  world ;  but 
if  they  have  the  get-there-Eli  microbe  concealed  in 
their  pajamas  when  they  go  away,  they  can  laugh  at 
the  traps  and  nets  that  are  thrown  out  to  catch  them, 
stand  off  the  alleged  friends  who  try  to  induce  them 
to  go  into  the  red  paint  business,  use  the  red  liquor 
to  rub  on  bruises  and  strained  muscles  on  the  outside, 
instead  of  taking  it  internally  to  build  fires  that  never 
quench.  Which  kind  of  a  prodigal  nephew  you  want 
to  be — one  who  comes  home  with  a  suit  of  clothes 
and  a  bank  account,  the  glow  of  health  on  your 
cheek,  and  a  love  of  life  and  all  that  goes  with  it ;  or 
a  prodigal  with  a  blanket,  a  haversack  full  of  husks 
that  the  hogs  won't  eat,  all  the  diseases  that  are  go 
ing  in  the  set  you  have  moved  in,  and  a  desire  to  die 
on  the  doorstep  of  the  old  home  before  they  can  cook 
the  calf?  Which  you  want  to  be,  boy?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you,  Uncle  Ike,"  said  the  boy,  laying  his 
head  in  the  old  man's  lap,  as  they  sat  under  the  tree ; 
"  I  am  going  to  be  the  kind  of  a  prodigal  who  comes 
home  with  the  good  health,  and  the  money,  and  the 
appetite  for  calf ;  and  when  you  are  old,  Uncle  Ike, 
you  sha'n't  get  wet  any  more,  for  I  will  buy  you  a 
duck  boat  that  can't  be  tipped  over  with  jackscrews, 
that  you  can't  break  with  an  ax,  and  that  has  air 
chambers  in  both  ends,  so  it  couldn't  be  sunk  if 


and  the  Red-headed  Boy 

loaded  with  railroad  iron  ;  and  I  will  buy  you  a  pump 
gun  that  will  shoot  ducks  without  your  aiming  it,  and 
you  shall  have  a  picnic  as  long  as  you  live.  That  is 
the  kind  of  prodigal  nephew  I  am  going  to  be  ";  and 
the  old  man  stroked  the  red  hair  on  the  head  that  lay 
in  his  lap,  and  the  tears  stole  down  his  cheeks  as  he 
thought  what  a  difference  there  was  in  prodigals. 
He  thought  of  his  own  prodigal  days,  when  he  went 
out  from  the  home  roof  tree  to  make  his  way  in  the 
world ;  how  he  worked  on  a  farm  from  long  before 
daylight  in  the  morning,  till  all  the  rest  had  gone  to 
bed,  and  his  back  ached  so  he  could  not  sleep ;  how 
he  jumped  the  farm  when  he  found  his  wages  de 
creased  as  the  work  became  harder  and  the  weather 
colder,  and  he  went  into  the  city  and  worked  at  many 
different  trades,  and  finally  became  a  printer,  and 
grew  up  to  be  an  editor,  made  money  and  went  back 
home  a  grown  man,  with  a  moustache  that  actually 
had  to  be  combed ;  and  how  the  girls  that  would  not 
speak  to  him  when  he  was  a  dirty,  freckled  boy, 
wanted  to  give  parties  in  his  honor,  and  how  he  shook 
them ;  and  now  he  regretted,  old  bachelor  that  he 
was,  that  he  had  not  allowed  them  to  entertain  him, 
so  he  might  have  picked  out  the  best  one  of  them  for 
his  wife  ;  and  he  sighed,  and  got  up  and  wrung  some 
more  water  out  of  his  wet  clothes  hanging  on  the 
fence,  and  wondered  how  in  the  world  he  could  have 
allowed  himself  to  be  tipped  over  in  a  boat,  and  if  he 
actually  did  make  a  fool  of  himself  when  he  was  there 
in  the  water,  wishing  he  hadn't  gone  hunting  at  alL 


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